


Colors

by mistyhollowdrummer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And when do I not write smut?, But I added smut, But I took the liberty of changing a few small things, F/M, Fluff, In case that makes you uncomfortable, Lots of that too, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Swearing, The Darkest Minds AU, because I wrote it, but it's small, just small things, mentions of past allurance, some very mild violence, they all have powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyhollowdrummer/pseuds/mistyhollowdrummer
Summary: When IAAN broke out, I lost everything. My family, my home, my dog, and my childhood. My life as a human being was nonexistent. I was a freak born by a disease with no control or say with what happens to my future. Adults are the enemies, no matter who or what says otherwise, so it should come as no surprise that my lack of trust extends to the people who saved my life, especially for the one who came back for me.





	Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all and welcome to another dystopian AU, because I can't seem to write anything else, much less a short one shot or smut. A couple things for starters: Yes, this is a The Darkest Minds AU. If you haven't read the book or seen the movie, that's okay, I'll just do a short summary.  
> Children under the ages of 18 are infected with a disease called IAAN that kills 90% of the children's population. The remaining 10% have powers, and are categorized as such.  
> Green: Incredible intelligence  
> Blue: Telekinesis  
> Gold: Power to control and create electricity  
> Red: Power to control and create fire  
> Orange: Power over the mind (Can do anything to a person or make them do whatever the person commands, including altering or erasing memories)  
> Reds and Oranges are considered too dangerous, and are killed off. Everyone else works in camps run by adults who force them away from their homes to "protect the public," and what not.  
> I have watched the movie, but haven't finished book one, so if this isn't completely exact to the books description, I apologize. I did take some liberties with the powers, making them a tad bit more adaptable, but I couldn't resist the idea. :3  
> If you'd like to get an idea of some of the powers, I highly suggest looking up "The Dangerous Reds (Ruby Vs. Clancy)" on youtube. That's my favorite scene from the movie, and gives you a pretty decent idea of some of the powers (Blues, Reds, and Oranges) Of course it's an ending scene, so don't if you plan to watch the movie. X'D  
> I hope you like it!  
> -Misty

I awake to warmth. A beating heart in my ear and arms wrapped gently around me. My mind comfortably thinks of Matt, my older brother, cradling me against his chest at the tender age of twelve. How he held me close as we watched what was happening on the news.

            The disease. IAAN. Something akin to the plague killing off ninety percent of the populations’ children.

            We were the lucky ones to have survived.

            My minds reels, however, when I remember that, that had happened over six years ago. That I had been separated from him when I was fourteen, forced into a different camp when we were taken from our home.

            I shoot up in shock, a sudden ache coursing through my whole body. My residing groan is covered up by gasps and the sound of quick shuffling. People stepping back and looking down at me in ways that I had once seen before.

            The day I had been diagnosed and assigned as a Green. The day I found out the life I once knew was at an end.

            Shocked. Surprised. Cold and unforgiving. Some generally curious looks follow behind, especially from the man who I had been laying on.

            I crawl away from him in surprise, my back bumping into the hard metal of a cargo crate. Something we seemed to be hiding in. Something decked out in Christmas lights that were plugged into nothing, and mattresses lined along the floor with blankets and pillows. A small, makeshift kitchen, and nonperishables stacked on top of cardboard boxes.

            The blanket around my waist tucked under my feet. I stagger to stand, but a woman with strikingly white hair holds her hands out cautiously, coming towards me like I’m an easily startled animal.

            "It's alright," She speaks with a soft, soothing tone. Something so similar to a mother, but she seems too young to be one. "You're safe. You have nothing to fear here."

            She speaks with a heavy accent. It sounds like English, but with a hint of something European to it. A mixed accent I can’t place, even with my heightened intellect.

            "W-What...?" I find quickly that I’m parched. My tongue is dry and my throat is scratchy. The whole world spins around me in a sudden upheaval of nausea I hadn't noticed before, but I'm sure the haphazard way I moved didn't help any.

            "Whoa, easy there," A teen beside me settles his hands on my shoulders, gloved hands pushing into me to keep me upright.

            "W-Water..." I rasp, placing a hand to my throat. A teen beside me, someone with black hair cut into an odd mullet is quick to grab a bottle of water. I can’t see the lower half of his face with the scarf around his neck covering it, but his oddly colored eyes held a kindness to them I’m not used to.

            I gulp heavily at the contents, drinking until I finish off the bottle of water. It’s refreshing, the coldness sliding down my parched throat and slightly awakening my senses. Where am I again?

            Some sort of crate with a bunch of teenagers. That’s all I can come up with it seemed.

            I remembered being in camp. I remembered the soldiers gathering us up for work when there was a loud shout and a gunshot. A bunch of gunshots followed, and it was a rush of kids of any age to the gate.

            I had been one of them, but I had fallen, and was trampled on by anyone and everyone who didn’t care what happened to me. I cried out in pain, felt a pulse of white noise, and then everything went black.

            Now I’m here. Surrounded by these people that I don’t know, and don’t recognize from the camp I was trapped it.

            "Better...?" The masked teen asks me.

            "... Y-Yes," I mumble, looking around the small room.

            "I take it you have many questions..." The girl with the white hair says, settling down on her knees beside me. I nod slowly, clutching the plastic of my bottle so hard it crunches under my fingers.

            "One for us first," The masked teen states, his arms crossing over his chest. "What color are you?"

            "Keith," The bigger teen with gloves utters like this boy, _Keith,_ has said something he shouldn't have.

            "What...? We aren't segregated here, Hunk, but we have to think of ourselves too."

            "What Keith means," The woman speaks up, settling a hand over mine. Her touch is warm and soothing, comforting. It's foreign to me. "Is that we've all been through a lot. It would help us to know who we are speaking with."

            I can understand what she means. Am I a Red? Am I dangerous? Or am I an Orange? Should I just _not exist?_

            "I'm a Green..." I reply slowly, cautiously. It seems the answer is enough to make the tension in the room drop by fifty percent. I see shoulders relax and faces contort to something less frightened. "My name is Pidge..."

            Not really. It's a nickname, but I don't know these people. They haven't earned my trust to know my real identity.

            "It's lovely to meet you officially, Pidge." The woman tells me with an even kinder smile. "My name is Allura."

            "Allura..." I say her name, testing it on my tongue. It had been so long since I had spoken that it feels strange, but she can tell what I'm really more curious about.

            "I am a Blue," She answers my inner question before turning to motion behind her to the teen I had been laying on. A brunet with dark skin, strikingly blue eyes, and one of those lady killer smiles. "This is Lance, and he as well is Blue."

            "Nice to meet you, kid," He says, flicking his wrist at me with a pointed finger. I offer a timid wave as Allura directs my gaze to the masked teen.

            "This is Keith, and right there is Hunk. Hunk is a Gold."

            I feel that intense curiosity in my mind. The sensation of my power cataloging everything. Taking in details, her stutter in her tone and the way she deliberately went over what Keith was. It's not hard to figure out what Hunk is judging by the gloves. If he takes those off, my guess if he's the reason everything in this cargo crate is lit up without any electrical currents.

            Keith, however, isn't too hard to figure out. He's either an Orange or a Red, figuring as much by his covered face. Hiding his identity or hiding his scars. Either way, he's dangerous.

            "I can see it in your eyes," Lance speaks up in a honey tone, a smirk crossing his lips. "Your power is a bit forward, isn't it?"

            "I don't mean to be..." I mumble, looking away. I had been staring too long.

            "I'm used to it," Keith says, turning his head away. "When you're a Red, you tend to get stares."

            Ah. So I had been right. The scarf was there to cover the burns around the lower half of his face. It might have also been a precaution as well. A reminder to keep himself under control. Anyone Red usually tends to have problems controlling their powers, because their emotions directly connect to them more than anyone else's.

            "Sorry..." I apologize.

            "Don't, it's alright. I don't let my label speak for me. Only my actions."

            My mind takes those words into consideration, documenting them and saving them for another time. Another place where that would be important to remember.

            Like I'd ever forget.

            "You said I can ask questions." I say to Allura, looking back at the woman with interest.

            "You may," She assures, placing her hands on her lap. There's something very regal about her I can't seem to place.

            "... Where am I?" I begin.

            "This is our little hide away," She answers, motioning up around the room. "It's an abandoned cargo box just off the docks. We're in an old fishing town that's been abandoned for three years now."

            If I listen closely, I can hear the seagulls outside of the box. The metal reverberates the sounds easily, something I should have noticed sooner, but didn't. Maybe because I was too busy rushing to get away from Mr. Loverboy over there.

            "Is it just you guys?" I ask, looking about the small group of teens.

            "Shiro went out to get supplies, but he should be back soon," Hunk tells me.

            "Shiro...?"

            "He's the only adult you can trust," Lance says. "No powers, but no ties to the government, the League, or any other adults."

            "He keeps us safe and well-fed," Allura says. "So have no fear. We're safe with him."

            "And how can I trust any of you?" I ask. It's blunt and harsh, I know, but truthfully, I need to know. "I only remember the camp. How did I get here? What did you do? How did you-?"

            "Pidge, chill..." Keith says, holding his hands out in a motion that tells me to slow down.

            "It wasn't planned," Allura begins her explanation, her hand tucking stray pieces of hair behind her ear. "We were actually being transported to the camp you were in after a failed routine scouting trip. We had just gotten within the gates when Keith was claimed as a Red."

            Keith is slow moving, almost like he regrets the decision, but carefully, like he was going to startle an animal (or maybe he was the easily startled animal in this scenario), he takes off his scarf.

            The scars along his cheeks aren't as bad as I thought they would be. Most of it is new, with the exception of one nasty one along his right cheek. Something that looks old and will never not be there.

            "They shot at him to kill him off, but Lance pulled another guard in the way. He took the shot instead."

            I look over to Lance, expecting from what I've learned of his personality so far that he'd be happy by that admission, but he doesn't. In fact, he looks guilt-ridden. It had been his fault someone lost their life, even if it meant saving a friend of his.

            The gunshot I heard correlates with the story Allura tells me, and the more in depth it got, the more I understood what happened.

            "A fight broke out. Some kids rebelled. They used the speakers to blast the white noise, but I used my powers to create a field around us. I was able to reverberate the sound, if only for a few of us."

            Now Allura looks guilty. Guilty that she couldn't save more, even though she saved the few that meant something to her. However, it taught me something about the telekinesis powers that I hadn't known could be done. Maybe it just hadn't been witnessed yet. Either way, Allura is a particularly powerful Blue.

            "And then Lance," Keith interjects, leaning off of his mattress to point an accusing finger at the brunet. "Couldn't help but save someone."

            "Hey, he was getting trampled!" Lance exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air. "Not to mention the guards were going to kill him! They were blasting white noise in his ears! If we can't save them all, then fuck me for saving one!"

            I probably should be more offended. After all, I'm not a guy like Lance assumes, though I can figure out how he would make that mistake. However, as someone who doesn’t want them knowing who I am, nor do I feel they had earned the right to, I don’t really care.

            "... T-Thank you," I say, stopping what seems to be a regular argument between the two teens. "For coming for me."

            Lance perks up at that, his lips turning into a smile and those blue eyes lighting up in a way I hadn't personally seen from anyone while in camp. I must have made his day.

            "Anything for my new teammate," He beams, his finger flicking from me to him.

            I gasp as my back leaves the wall, my lower half sliding across the floor, right past Allura, until I'm back against Lance. He has his arm wrapped around my shoulders, tugging me into his chest in such a way that has me blushing. I'm not used to physical contact at all, and now all of a sudden, _this?_ And from a _boy?_

            "H-Hey!"

            "He does that a lot..." Hunk warns me, his fingers twiddling together in a way I can easily conclude is a nervous habit.

            This is going to be one hell of a ride.

* * *

 

            My eyes look about the dark, grey skies, taking in the fresh scent of the ocean all around me, the distant smell of hay and manure from a makeshift barn from a cargo bay a little less than a mile away.

            The air is salty, bitter, with the scent of rain heavy. A storm is coming, and by the waves coming in harsher as time goes on, it becomes a more prominent fact.

            Hunk and Keith had gone out to scavenge for new clothes, mostly for me. I was still trapped in my Green attire, wandering in shoes from my camp that easily give away my prison number and what camp I came from.

            Allura had gone with Shiro to a hidden trade post for kids. They were getting more food, and apparently Shiro, a tall man of twenty five, with black hair and a white tuff of fluff in the front, a scar across his nose, and a prosthetic arm was well liked amongst us kids and teens. He’s one of the very few that can be trusted.

            At first I had seen him as a threat. He looked like an ex-militia man who would give us away at any moment, but he was far gentler than his appearance suggested, and much kinder than I had anticipated. He even offered up his portion of dinner to me due to their lack of it, making sure I had enough to regain my strength after the white noise.

            It was very kind of him, and I'm glad he gave it to me. I was very weak, but after a good night's sleep sharing a mattress with Lance, who every so often brushed up against me, I felt eighty percent better. The other twenty was the unanswered questions and fear of living outside of the camp. I couldn't tell which was better.

            Speaking of which.

            My eyes drift over to the barn not far away. Not actually a barn, but an old warehouse turned into a mini barn. It takes me a few minutes, but I find myself at the poorly built door to look inside.

            Not much was there. There were a few handmade stalls, one with a cow chewing away on hay while the two horses there ate grain. I step under the door and inside, the smell of farm animals tickling my nose and upsetting my allergies. I wipe at it and sigh, looking around before a bale of straw lands beside me with a heavy thump. Any closer and my neck would have been broken.

            I yip in surprise, jumping away from it and scrambling, instinct telling me that this was an attack. The adults were back, guns ready to shoot and kill-

            "Whoops, sorry." The familiar tone of Lance's voice shocks me from my anxious stupor. I look up at him in shock, sending a glare his way as he hovers another bale of straw over my head. "I didn't see you there."

            "Then look before you drop it," I utter, stuffing my hands into the jacket Lance let me borrow. He was wearing one of Shiro's in return.

            "Well I didn't expect you in my neck of the woods," He says, dropping down. I gasp just before he hits the ground, but hovers for a moment, a long smirk pulling at his lips as he shows off his well-developed powers. "Were you worried about me?"

            "About your brain, yes." I retort, crossing my arms over my chest. "Stop messing around. If anyone sees you doing that, they'll-"

            "What? Call the cops?" Lance snickers as his fingers curl, the bale of straw lifting from the ground and hovering towards one of the horses' stalls. "I'm not afraid of them. I just broke a few hundred kids out of jail. You included. I'll do it again."

            "You don't think they wouldn't consider you more dangerous now that you’ve done that?" I ask, but stop short as the strings snap, and the straw effortlessly scatters next to the horse.

            Lance looks a little winded, obviously overusing his telekinesis to the point his body is taking in the abuse. I can imagine that must be hard on him. Having to have exerted himself so much that he broke free of our prison, saving so many others, and then to keep using it to make sure all of the work for the horses and cow is done?

            He must be tired.

            Using my brain takes very little effort, and it doesn't hurt anymore when I overstore information. I take everything in until it does, but that means I'm learning something completely new, like a language. It's not as difficult anymore now that I've developed it, but I can imagine that his is more extensive, especially since he's higher on the scale of dangerous children. Children in quotation, because he can't be much older than me.

            "... Thanks, by the way." I say, my hands going back into the pockets of his jacket to keep warm. It is a little chilly today. "For saving me. I... I appreciate it."

            Lance's eyes light up again. It's in the way the color shines in them, how he looks like he hasn't been told a decent thing in his life. I can't imagine what he's gone through, though I can take a guess. We've all lost our families and seen friends die. I can feel sympathy for him.

            "I know using your powers that much is tiring, and you still have to keep going, so... I appreciate it. All that you did for me and the other kids at the camp."

            Lance's eyes widen for a moment, as if a thought crosses his mind. Something not happy, and suddenly I'm overwhelmed with a sensation of nausea. I feel so sick to my stomach that I might just puke, covering my mouth as I'm overcome with guilt so terrible I can't even breathe.

            "I-I'm sorry!" Lance apologizes, quickly catching me in his arms before I fall against the stall door, and holding me against his chest. "I didn't mean that, I swear..."

            Where his hands touch are warm, and a sensation of calmness floods my senses. The feeling of sickness dissipates in less than seconds, though I'm still left winded by the sensation and in a cold sweat. I'm panting, clutching at Lance's shirt and holding on with shaking fingers, blinking back the previous thoughts as I look up at him to read the expression of guilt on his face.

            "Y-You..." I mumble, trying to collect my thoughts. I can feel a twinge of pain in the back of my head, like my power was suddenly contradicted by something he had done. It's not hard to come to the conclusion of what had happened. "You can project your emotions..."

            "Yeah, but I don't have much control over it..." He admits, rubbing a hand down my back. "It happens on its own sometimes..."

            "T-That's how you felt..." I feel a warmth spreading from his fingertips, but I can still feel guilt. He's not good at hiding his emotions, intentionally or otherwise. "Lance, you saved my life. You saved so many people. How could you feel so horrible?"

            "... Because I didn't save everyone..." His cheek rests on top of my head, and I feel a light rock in his stance that I easily follow. "S-So many others didn't make it... Just shot down, a-and I couldn't..."

            I can feel the sickness again. That overwhelming nausea that I can now assume is his own feelings. I don't think he's aware that he's doing it this time, but I fight past the feeling to wrap my arms around his shoulders, pressing closer into his body until there's no space between us anymore.

            "Lance, you can't feel like this all of the time. This isn't healthy. The guilt is going to kill you." I tell him, idly curling my fingers through the ends of his hair. "I know it's hard, but what you did was amazing all on its own, even if some didn't make it. The ones who did can never thank you enough..."

            "B-But..." He tries to argue, but I lift my head to look at him, fixing him with a pointed glare.

            " _I_ can never thank you enough for saving me. You even came back for me, even when everyone else ran right over me. Lance, that's..." I shake my head lightly. "You easily could have died doing that, but you did it anyway."

            "I..." He's at a loss for words.

            "And you saved Keith too. Don't forget about that." I remind, and just as quickly as I say it does the nausea increase tenfold. I buckle under the extreme pressure of it, clinging to his shoulders like my life depends on it, but I can only imagine how much stronger it feels to him.

            "I killed someone..."

            "To save a friend..." I say, panting to quell the need to puke. "L-Lance, have you ever been in one of those camps before?"

            There's a pause as the feelings die down again. I can breathe a little easier, resting my head against his shoulder to concentrate and get my head on straight. Lance is trying to reel himself in; I can tell just by the expression on his face that he's trying not to exert his powers on me, but he has a harder time controlling his emotions than he lets on.

            The happy facade is faked to cover up his real pain, and anyone can see it if they knew him, or if they were incredibly smart like me.

            "Not for long... A few days…" He answers after a long pause.

            "Then you only have a glimpse of what they do there..." I tell him, slowly looking up. "If they hadn't tried to kill him, they would have used him in a war he doesn't belong in. They would have tortured him, or worse. You saved his life, Lance. I know it was at the cost of someone else, but you did the right thing..."

            For a moment it's quiet, and I can only assume that Lance is thinking about what I just said because of it. He's so fixed on it that the feelings he’s letting off are disappearing, and I can take a deep breath in and sigh, no longer feeling anything other than a relaxed hum within my own chest.

            Lance settles his head on top of mine again, his arms wrapping around me and encasing me in a warm hug. I follow suit, clinging to the back of his sweat-damp shirt and taking a few slow, deep breaths.

            "Thanks Pidge..." He says to me, and suddenly there's warmth all over me. Warmth that didn't just come from a hug. Something so happy and content, relaxed with what was, and what would be.

            I sigh blissfully, curling into him as much as I can. I’m not sure if he’s doing it on purpose or not, or if he is even aware that he’s doing it, but I’m not complaining in the least. The happiness he lets through feels like something I have personally never felt before. I had been happy, but this was a whole different level of satisfaction I can’t comprehend.

            All I know is that it feels _good,_ and I don’t want him to stop. It has been so long since I could sleep with both eyes closed let alone be able to relax, and this right here is the nicest feeling I had felt in a long time. I could totally sleep with this.

            Lance chuckles, probably at my reaction, which tells me he’s aware of what he’s doing. It's something deep in his chest that I hear rumble against my ear, along with the slightly fast beat of his heart. I don't try to stop the small purr of pleasure, pressing my forehead into his neck to take in as much as I can. It’s selfish, but it feels so good.

            "You sound like a cat..." Lance jokes, his fingers tucking my hair behind my ear. My body breaks out into a shudder when he concentrates enough to bring the sensation to the skin of my ear.

            "I-I don't know what you're doing..." I stutter, lifting my head only to press further into his hand.

            "Helping you relax. It's the least I can do." He replies. I feel his finger trace along my jawline, down the curve of my neck, and back up slowly. "I needed that pep talk."

            "You can keep doing it..." I tell him, my shoulders tensing and relaxing every time he came close to the collar of my shirt.

            I don't know how I can be so relaxed around him. Girls and boys were separated in our camp, and it had been so long since I had interacted with anyone beyond my brother. Yet here I am, letting him hug me and touch me, and say things softly into my ear like we had known each other for years.

            He chuckles again, something a little more on par with the charisma Lance had shown me last night. I smile, looking up and forcing his head off of mine to look up into blue eyes.

            Lance is much taller than me, but I seem to fit right in his arms. Kind of like I fit right in place, and when he looks down at me, it just seems to work. The smile he returns that made his eyes light up only seems to agree with me.

            Only a second later, however, does he stop and take a few steps back. I instantly mourn the loss of his warmth, both from his body and his power.

            "I-I should uh... Get back to work." He says, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that seems slightly embarrassed. I can only confirm that for sure by the blush on his cheeks.

            "Sure," I agree, watching as he wanders towards the ladder to get another bale of straw. "Hey Lance?" I call out before he can go too far.

            "Yeah?" He asks, stopping with one foot on a ladder step.

            "I mean... I guess I trust you guys enough to tell you this." I mumble, looking down at the ground and adjusting my glasses. It's become a force of habit to do now. "But I uh..."

            Lance tilts his head, waiting for me to continue. He's quiet and doesn't pry, but there's curiosity to his eyes I find interesting.

            "... My real name is Katie Holt, and, as you can tell by the name, I'm a girl." I say as confidently as I can, yet it does no good. I'm blindsided by surprise that Lance let's out by accident. So much so that I can’t help but stagger backwards in my own surprise and fall to the ground with a yip.

            "You're a girl? _How?"_ Lance is so surprised that he loses all control over his powers and shoots himself up ten feet into the air, flying right onto the rafters to land in a pile of dusty straw and hay.

            "L-Lance! Are you okay?" I call out, unaware of the horses jumping in surprise in their stalls.

            "Wow," A new voice mutters. I turn around to see Keith standing in the boarded up doorway, holding a few fish tied on a line against his back. He's looking up in the rafters, mildly amused, but mostly apathetic to the sight he had just witnessed. "I haven't seen you have that little control of your powers since I met you, Lance."

            Said teen staggers out of the pile of straw, pieces of it sticking out of his clothes, his hair, and one piece actually tucked in his pants.

            "Did you know Pidge is a girl?" He gapes at him, and I flush greatly at that. I trusted Lance, but everyone else was still up for debate.

            "Yeah," Keith says nonchalantly. "You're the only one who didn't know."

            "Really?"

            _"Really?"_

Lance and I say in unison, but his voice is far squeakier than mine is. I'm more surprised, but I think Lance is downright horrified. Maybe I had made the wrong choice in telling him?

* * *

 

            I wake up against my own volition. I don't want to be awake, but I am, and I roll onto my back to look up at the twinkling Christmas lights above. The only source of light in the cargo crate that wouldn't blind us to death in the otherwise dark room.

            I don't think it's my bladder that's woken me up, though I'm sure the fish Keith had cooked last night weren't completely safe to eat based on the pollution in the water and his lack of proper knowledge on cooking salt water fish. I could use some fresh water though, but as I sit up a little to ponder where I had seen Hunk store the water bottles Shiro had gotten for us, I hear a whimper.

            I look about, quickly finding the source. Lance isn't hard to miss with the way he's wiggling against me, but it's pained. I can barely see his brows furrow, his cheeks flushed and sweat dripping down his cheeks. It's in the way he tosses and turns that leads me to understand that he's having a nightmare, and when I hover over him to see if he is able to wake up calmly, I feel an overwhelming amount of fear.

            It's not the typical nightmare. I don't know what it's about, but judging by the way it came off of him earlier, I can tell it has something to do with the man he killed to save Keith.

            "Lance..." I whisper, ignoring the feeling of fear emanating from him and into me to shake his shoulder. "Lance, wake up. It's a nightmare."

            He's harder to wake up than I'd imagine. It takes me physically forcing him onto his back to rouse him, and when he wakes, it's with a gasp, sitting upright like he's trying to escape what's chasing him in the dream.

            He's panting hard, shaking as he frantically looks around. His eyes find me through the dark after a few quiet moments, and when his eyes land on me, I see the awareness return to those blue eyes.

            It was just a nightmare.

            "Pidge..." He whimpers, looking down to his lap where his hands clench into fists. I rest my hand on his shoulder, feeling his clammy skin where his sleep shirt dangles off of his shoulder.

            "I'm right here..." I tell him. The fear dissipates into something more manageable. I can breathe again, but it's still residing in his heart, and he's probably not even aware he's doing it.

            "F-Fuck I..." He stutters and shakes, covering his face with his hands to drag them down and pull on his skin, almost as if testing this reality.

            "It was just a nightmare..." I say, scooting even closer to wrap my arms around him, gently hugging him. He's trying to make sure it really was just as said. I can tell by the way he hesitates in returning the hug, but he does after a few quiet seconds, squeezing every ounce of fear away as he buries his face in my shoulder.

            It's a struggle to stay upright as we sit in this uncomfortable position, but I don't move. He's not ready to let go, and I'm not depriving him of comfort when he needs it.

            So instead I silently convince him to lay back on the mattress, and he slowly lays down with me in his arms. I cuddle right into his chest, close enough to hear his heart hammering against my ear. I'm okay with not having a blanket over me, but apparently he isn't, and instead kicks his legs to get his blanket untangled, and then drapes it over the both of us.

            I can't say I'm not grateful. It is pretty damn cold in here.

            "You okay...?" I ask, looking up at him through the dark. His eyelashes are long, casting shadows on his prominent cheekbones.

            "I-I saw it again..." He utters, his arms tightening around me. It's almost hard to breathe. _Almost._ "T-The guy... He was gonna shoot Keith, and then I just..."

            "I know. I know..." I assure him. He doesn't need to retell the story, especially if this is the reaction he's going to have every time he remembers it. Someday he's going to have to face his demons, but right now the mental scarring is too fresh. He can't face it like this.

            "I-I just-"

            "Shh…" I press my hand into his cheek, feeling his damp skin against my palm, damp from tears I hadn't been able to see in the dim lighting. He's still shaking horribly, and I don't know what to do to help him feel better. All of the knowledge in the world is at my disposal, and yet I'm still not good with people.

_Thanks universe._

            "Take a few deep breaths..."

            Matt used to tell me that all the time when I was upset. Breathing made people feel better, and in a logical sense, it would physically relax you. It released tension and helped increase oxygen into the blood, which would also lower blood pressure.

            At least that was what I had been assured of. Now with the world’s knowledge at my disposal, I know it's true, but it still seems odd. I'm not sure why.

            Lance listens, taking in shaky breaths that get caught in his stuffed up nose, and then let's it out slowly. I run my fingers against his arm, feeling goosebumps under my fingertips with fine hairs standing on end.

            It takes some time, however much I'm not sure of. I simply lay there against him, rubbing his arm and his chest, listening to his pounding heart until it settles into a slow, normal rhythm. He still shivers, and every now and again I hear him cover up a sniffle with his sleeve, trying not to wake anyone else. He probably thinks he's the reason I'm awake.

            "Better...?" I ask, quiet and soft. I don't know how to approach this sort of situation, so I don't know how else to speak.

            I'm not too keen on waking the others either.

            "Yeah..." He sighs heavily, sleepily, and I look up at him to see his eyes drooping with exhaustion.

            "Go back to sleep..." I say, sitting up on an elbow to better see his face. "You need your rest."

            "I..." He mumbles, turning his head away, as if he's trying to hide from me. "I-I can't..."

            "Why...?"

            "Cause I..." He falters and hesitates, covering his eyes with his forearm. "Nothing..."

            "Lance, talk to me." I plead, cupping his cheek. "This is about what happened, right?"

            It's not hard to figure out. He hides it from the others, or at least I'm sure he tries, but his facade is breaking, and it's breaking fast. The pressure and guilt of what happened is physically hurting him now, and he can't hide it for much longer.

            He's already lost that battle with me.

            "I-I can't see it again... I just can't..."

            His lips contort in pain, and I feel the tears hit my fingers without seeing it.

            I sigh, pushing his arm away to see his face, though I wish I hadn't. This broken expression, a silent plea for help, and tears drenching his flushed cheeks sends a pang of sadness down my spine. It settles painfully in my stomach as I sit up to properly wrap my arms around him, bringing his head against my chest. He follows without argument, his arms wrapping around my waist and holding on so tightly it's hard to breathe.

            "Shh..." I hush, running my fingers through his hair.

            I don't tell him that everything is going to be okay. How can I? I don't know for sure if it will be or not.

            So all I can do is hold him and wish it all away.

* * *

 

            "Wanna bet money?"

            "What money? Hunk, ain't no one going to give us kids' shit."

            "Okay... How about dinner?"

            "What did you have in mind?"

            I breathe in deeply, my mind trying hard to block out the voices I hear. The talking that's slowly bringing me out of my deep, warm sleep.

            "I bet you three fish with my special sauce that it's official in a week."

            "Make it five, and I say two days."

            "Deal."

            "Would you two stop it? You're going to wake them up."

            Too late. I'm already opening my eyes, feeling a heavy swelling in them that can only be caused by my terrible allergies. My whole body aches, and there's a weight against my chest that's unfamiliar, but it's so warm. The warmth I vaguely recognize from a few days ago, and again from last night.

            Just at the thought, the warmth moves against me. I look down at it, finding a mop of messy brown hair in my face. Hot breath fans against my neck and collar bone, and vaguely I recognize that there's a hand under my sleep shirt, resting against my hip. The other is under my head, acting as a pillow.

            I smile, reaching up to run my fingers through Lance’s hair. It seems the voices I had heard were rousing him too, because only a moment later do his blue eyes open, blearily looking up at me, and those thin lips stretch into that gentle smile I rarely see from him.

            As if on cue, the sound of someone clearing their throat can be heard.

            It's like the realization hits us both at the same exact time. My eyes widen just about the same second his do, and both of us realize how _weird_ this must look to whoever else is in the room with us.

            We jump apart, scrambling back, but both of our feet are stuck in the blankets. I manage to roll off of the mattress and into the trunk with the computer set up on top of it while Lance backs into a pair of strong legs.

            Well. This was awkward.

            "Sleep well?" It's Keith's voice, and when I sit up, fumbling to get Lance's jacket off of my head, I see him standing at the foot of the bed. Hunk is at Lance's side, who's resting against his legs, and the bigger teen is looking down at him with a smug grin of sorts.

            "I told them to leave you alone." Allura is at the open cargo door, standing there in a heavy jacket and letting in a bunch of cold air.

            "Where's the fun in that?" Keith turns back to ask her, his hands on his hips in what could only be described as cocky.

Smug bastard.

            Allura fixes him with a nasty glare, a silent way of saying _shut up and leave them alone._ He seems to get the gist of her silent threat, and thankfully backs away. His hands go up in defeat, though he doesn't lose the smirk on his lips. A smirk I want to smack off so badly.

            "Come on, man. We've got work to do." Keith tells Hunk, playfully slapping at his arm.

            "Alright, but I change my agreement to one day."

            "You can't do that!"

* * *

 

            A few days go by. Quickly and busy, but very cold. Fall is unforgiving, and Shiro is kind enough to loan me a jacket of his until we all can get some new clothes. I'm the only one stuck with two pairs of my own: The ones the camp gave me, and the ones this small group has given me, and at this point, I'd be fine walking around in my underwear if it meant I wouldn't have to wear my camp uniform ever again.

            With the cold weather comes the threat of freezing to death. Keith sat everyone down last night and discussed moving from the cargo dock. We're safe here, but it's cold, and far harder to keep us warm. Hunk throws out the idea of going to some of the richer neighborhoods that are now abandoned. No kids meant no economy, and that meant the adults moved to big cities to stay in where work was needed. There were plenty of homes in need of upkeep.

            This seemed to be a unanimous decision. We all agreed, though I brought up the argument of the security cameras along said rich streets, on the houses, and the chances of food being scarcer. We could find some in those houses if we raided carefully, but we ran the risk of setting off any leftover security that would alert any authorities.

            The great thing about the docks was that we could fish whenever we wanted to, and always had food. Going into the abandoned districts meant losing the security we had here, but we ran such a risk of freezing. Keith can only do so much as a Red without being spotted, and Hunk can’t work small heating systems without making them explode. He’s too fearful of his powers to properly control them.

            Even with the argument, we had to take the chance. I was just glad they even assumed I'd be going with them.

            It had only been a week of being here. I hadn't done much besides recover, and it didn't seem like there was much for me to do. I had nothing to do besides sit around and watch the small monitors they had set up to look at the gates to the cargo bay. I always watched to make sure no adults came too close to our little home.

            It was the least I could do.

            Although, it wouldn't be too hard to take some of the scraps the others had collected and make a small power bank. It wasn't much, but I bet I could get something set up to make an electric fence. Hunk could use his power to give it juice, and that would release some of his built up energy. It would take away a lot of the headaches he had from not using it as often as he should have.

            Better yet, with just a few more things, I could make a motor. Something bigger that required more power. An electric fence would be an easy _someone is hiding here_ sign, but it would buy us time to run. It'd give the adults a literal shock, and if I rigged an alarm, we would have plenty of time to alert any of the others and run the hell away.

            It could work. I just needed the tools.

            I'm quick to start digging through the pile of scraps. Hunk keeps a nearby toolbox, so I grab what I need from that, mentally promising to put it all back in its original place. He's a little ornery about where his things go.

            Everything has a place, and everything in its place.

            I swear he got that from a movie.

            I pick up a few external parts. Some hard drives that I can rewire for a source of power. It's difficult, but doable.

            "Pidge...?"

            I'm so into the sudden idea I have that I didn't even notice Lance come in. He's shutting the giant metal door behind him, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

            "Oh, Lance..."

            "Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you."

            His cheeks, nose, and ears are red, his smile soft as he steps over Allura and Hunk's mattresses.

            "I should be paying more attention anyway." I tell him, waiting for him to sit down. I see his eyes fall to my lap, looking at the parts and gadgets I had been piling together to mess with. "I just had this idea that maybe I could create a motor. I don't think I have everything, but it shouldn't be hard to jerry-rig together something that we can use for the fence to the cargo dock. I could make an alarm and electric fence, just in case we need the extra time to pack up and leave."

            "You can do that?" He asks incredulously, his jaw dropping. "Damn, Pidge, that's incredible."

            "Well, it's not much in the grand scheme of things, but it's the least I can do after all you guys have done for me."

            "What are you talking about?" He questions, almost as if I've insulted him. "Pidge, you've done plenty for us."

            "Not really. I mean Hunk and Keith are out getting food. Allura is out scavenging for anything she can find that even _resembles_ clothes, and you're taking care of the horses and Kaltenicker. All I do is sit here and look at the screens to make sure no one is breaking in." I excuse, fiddling with Hunk's screwdriver in my lap. "I'm just a Green, so there really isn't much use for me anyway."

            The words don't do much to me anymore. I had been told that for six years in the camp, and I'm used to the remark.

            I'm not much compared to Blues, Golds, Reds, and sure as hell not threatening like an Orange.

            I'm just a brain.

            "Pidge, the hell are you going on about?" He asks, forcing my eyes on him by lifting my head from under my chin. "You're just a Green? I don't get what that's supposed to mean."

            "It means I'm not really useful." I say, shrugging my shoulders. "Your and Allura's powers are far more adaptable and have far more capabilities than mine. Hunk could power an entire city if he chose to. Keith is our protection. I'm just... Not much compared to that. Smarts aren't going to save me in the long run. I'm not dangerous or a threat."

            I never said the remarks never hurt. I was just used to hearing it, and I guess in some ways, I had come to believe the words. Take them to heart.

            I wasn't a threat to anyone.

            "Huh..." Lance utters, leaning back against the trunk, his hands resting between his legs like he's deep in thought.

            "What?"

            "I never thought anything less of you, because you're a Green." He says matter-of-factly. "I actually thought way more of you, because you aren't like the others."

            "What do you mean?"

            "I mean that anyone Green just... _Doesn't care."_ He tells me, leaning forward where he sits. "They are very apathetic in nature. They look at everything from a very logical point of view and can work out any problems they find in their way. I'm sure if I was the same way, I wouldn't feel a thing either, because I've got the world's knowledge in me, but you... You're different."

            I lean forward, unaware of how close we actually arm until his knee brushes against mine, and his fingers run over my bruised knuckles.

            "I... I still don't understand..."

            "You're an empath, Pidge." He explains, picking up my hands in his own. His palms are warm against mine. "You look at everything just as logically as any other Green, but you have the common decency of a human-being. You still give a damn about people, and you still see beauty in this fucked up world. I've never met any other Green who cared about people as much as you do, or would be willing to go so far for them, and not for your own benefit. You can take any dangerous situation and get yourself out of it, but not before saving whoever you can, because you still care."

            Lance's hands wander slowly, brushing over my arms and up to my shoulders. I shiver at the touch, tilting my head into his hand when it comes up to cup my cheek.

            "In a way... I think that makes you far more dangerous than any Orange."

            He's doing it again. Whether he's aware of it or not I'm not sure, but I shiver at the feeling of his warmth ebbing it's way into my body. I'm not even aware my eyes are closed until I open them, seeing him so close to me that I can feel his breath against my lips. I swallow, my hands gripping at his jacket so hard my knuckles turn white.

            We're just a hair's breath away from our lips touching.

            "I-I never noticed..." I mumble, because it's true. I'm not entirely sure what he's going on about, because I was never good with people. I don't know how to talk to people much less do any of what he's saying.

            "Really? Because I can't imagine any benefit you would get from laying with me all night a few days ago." He states, again very blunt. I sense a bit of sarcasm.

            "... Y-You were upset..." I look up at him, feeling heat spreading across my cheeks. If I concentrate on that instead of the color of his eyes, I can feel it burning the tips of my ears too.

            "Exactly..."

            I have nothing more to say to that. Even if I did, my argument is covered by his lips as he kisses me. A full kiss on the mouth and not some measly peck.

            I gasp against his lips, but my mind races with more warmth. Something tender and far more captivating than before. It's dizzying, but not so much that I stop or pull away.

            My arms wrap around Lance's shoulders, pressing into him until my chest is completely against his. I bet I could feel his heart beating against my chest, but instead I'm too busy focusing on his lips. His soft, tender lips that leave me breathless and whimpering to myself.

            It's so _embarrassing,_ but it's so _right._ It feels like this was all I was meant to do in life, and why I hadn't done it sooner I wasn't sure. I should have done it that night I slept in his bed, or when we were in the barn. Hell, I should have done it the moment I woke up, but I can make up for it now with this moment.

            Everywhere Lance's fingers touch leaves a trail of heat behind it. His hands that settle low on my waist, tingling pinpricks of arousal sparked behind it. He has to know he's doing it, but he seems too preoccupied with moving against me. His lips parting and taking me further into this blissful, unaware state where all I know is him.

            Everything he does is amplified by his touch. He's projecting his feelings on me: The racing heart, the fluttering in his stomach, the way there's fire lighting up everything. All of it is colliding with the same things I'm feeling and doubling it. I'm a whimpering mess against him, feeling his tongue slide between my teeth and tease my own.

            It's moving so fast. I hadn't planned for any of this to happen, much less this fast, but everything in my body is telling me to shut up and take it, because it feels so damn good. I don't know how or why, but it does, and I don't want him to stop.

            "L-Lan-" I pant, but only half of what I need to say gets out before his lips engulf me in another kiss. I groan into his mouth, my fingers tangling in the short strands of his soft hair and pulling. I want him close. _Need_ him closer than this, and that's not physically possibly anymore. I'm in his lap now, my legs on either side of his hips and my ankles hooked behind his back.

            Lance groans, something deep in his throat that's far deeper than what I've ever heard him sound like, and I'm shivering. His lips trail along my cheek, his hands gripping at me through Shiro's jacket almost possessively. Like me wearing the jacket makes him mad, and I feel it behind the passion he's emanating.

            I'm quick to shuck it off, leaving the skin of my arms bare, save for my short sleeves. The jacket falls behind me, where it acts as a pillow when we fall back.

            I don't move my legs anywhere, still locked behind Lance's back, but my hands are fumbling with the buttons of his winter jacket, trying to get it off. Meanwhile, Lance is kissing behind my ear, a spot I didn't know could be so sensitive. I'm whining now, which is downright horrifying, but it seems to be something he likes. I can tell in more ways than one.

            "Lance, kiss me. Kiss me, please..." I plead, my hands cupping his cheeks. There's a strike of pride that shoots through me, but it isn't my own. I only vaguely figure out where it comes from before his lips are devouring me again.

            I reciprocate with everything I've got, because, while I can't project my feelings like he can, I can show him just how much this means to me. How much his kisses affect me, and how much I want this.

            I know how sex works. I'm a Green, so of course I know, but that doesn't mean in practice I understand.

            I'm so ready to learn.

            "Fuck, Pidge..." Lance rasps, his hands clutching at the sheets of Allura's bed beneath us. There's something in the way he does it that makes me quiver.

            "Katie. My name is Katie." I breathe, pushing his bangs off of his forehead.

            "Katie-"

            That does it.

            I moan, yanking him down against me by pulling on his hair. It's rough and can't be comfortable, but Lance is hard against me, and he groans when we press together. My head drops back into the mattress, exposing my neck for more of his kisses. For his lips to glide down and suck on a spot that's sure to leave a mark.

            There's a little bit of rutting.

            Okay, that's a lie. There's a lot of it.

            I gasp as Lance's hips push into mine, rubbing up and down against that place that I never had the chance to explore. It feels so good, and I'm moaning softly against his ear, pushing my hips up into his without any worries or concerns, like worrying if Keith and Hunk will walk in at any minute and see us. If Allura were to come back with clothing and hear us panting and gasping like horny teenagers (which, in hindsight, we are).

            There's no concern. Only this. Only him pushing into me, and only me gasping and panting his name against his lips.

            "L-Lance... Fuck Lance..."

            Our kisses have stopped being gentle, and are far past innocent. It's all tongues, lips damp and swollen. I'm far past caring if anyone comes in and sees us. There's a buildup I feel. I know what it is, logically, but I've never felt it, and god do I want it. I want it so bad it almost hurts. Maybe the sensation is being brought on by Lance's own, doubling the feeling.

            I cling to it. I want it. I'm rolling my hips in time with his, pressing up just as he presses down. His jeans are rough against mine, the zipper extra stimulation. His lips are hot against me, and his fingers are up my shirt, skirting along the elastic band of my sports bra. My moans have long since been broken, trapped between his lips and melting under his touch.

            I'm almost there. I can feel it building up and up and up-

            Until I see movement out of the corner of my eye.

            I break from the kiss to turn my head and look at the monitors. It's so hard to focus behind the fog of lust, my lungs begging for air and Lance's gruff voice in my ear, but I see people on the screen. Not Allura, Hunk, or Keith, and certainly not Shiro.

            They're government officials.

            "L-Lance, stop, stop!" I cry out, pushing at his shoulders to move him away. He jumps back immediately, and I can tell by the look on his face that he fears he hurt me, but it wasn't at all like that. Hell, had I not seen this, I would have reached the blissful peak and never come down from it, but the fear that strikes my heart is so intense that any arousal is gone.

            I don't even offer an explanation. I crawl over to the trunk and look closely at the monitors, adjusting my glasses to better look at the men coming in, guns drawn up and aimed, and prepared for a fight.

            "Oh god..." Lance realizes what had stopped us all too quickly, his eyes blown wide and staring at the screen in horror. "They found us..."

            "Come on!" I grab his hand, my mind reeling with possible outcomes, any outcome for any small decision made (right or wrong). We run out of the cargo box, getting pelted by cold air and a light dusting of snow I hadn't seen on the screen only seconds ago. It impairs my vision- my arms are _freezing_ \- but I see Hunk and Keith not far off, chatting to one another with smiles on their faces and fresh fish caught from the bay.

            They have no idea.

            "You guys!" Lance yells to them, but it's too late.

            Shots fire close by, and judging from the bark of fear that comes from Hunk and the way he jumps a few feet back from Keith's side, one of them lands painfully close to them.

            It's chaos in a matter of milliseconds. Lance grabs my arm and pulls me towards them, his other hand directed at one of the empty cargo bins not far from us. It dislodges from its place, seemingly effortlessly in the way it comes over to land in front of us, giving us cover from a few more bullets. Hunk and Keith duck behind it as well, hiding from the shower coming at us. It wouldn't stop them for long and we know it, but it was our current (and  _only)_ protection from the PSF's coming at us.

            "Are you okay?" I ask, looking over a very shaken Hunk. He was as close to a pacifist as anyone could be in this day and age, so stuff like this scared him all the more.

            "Y-Yeah," He utters, rubbing his gloved hands together carefully. He's not hurt, and that's all that matters to me, even when I know he's terrified.

            "Keith, what do we do?" Lance asks, but he's panting. He's exerted so much of his power this past week that he's struggling to stay awake at this point. Keith can see it just as much as I can, and we both know that anymore and he won't get far.

            "Come out! We have you surrounded!" We hear one of the adults shout.

            Keith clicks his tongue in irritation, getting a quick glance past the thrown open door to see the people around us.

            "Shit, that's a lot of them..."

            "I got this," Lance says, standing up on shaky legs.

            "Lance-" I begin, but he's already using his power to move another crate. However, as Lance staggers, so does the crate that falls to the ground with a loud thud, something that shakes the wood beneath our feet.

            "Lance, stop. You're going to knock yourself out." Hunk warns, helping Lance to his knees.

            "W-We gotta get out of here..."

            It's getting worse. Whether Lance knew he had been using his powers while he slept or not, it’s taken a great toll on his body. He was starting to sweat, a bead of it running down his forehead, panting heavily, and shaking all over. I hadn't seen anyone shake like that since someone I used to know had been punished by a PSF.

            "We will. We just need-"

            "We're going to count to ten! I want your hands up in the air when you come out! One...!"

            And so their countdown began.

            I suck in a breath, my eyes wildly searching around us. There has to be something I can do. There was always a solution.

            This was a math problem. Something scientific. I was good with math, with puzzles especially. I could figure this out if I could just think of this in an objective manner.

            "Five!"

            The countdown helps none.

            Off in the distance, far past the crates and hidden away from any PSF in sight, I can see Allura. She was coming back from scavenging for new clothes for us, but she must have heard the gunshots and had been alerted to what was going on. She’s a smart girl and could easily wrap her mind around anything. She’s also far more stable-minded in tense situations.

            "Eight!"

            That's it. I know what to do.

            I wave at Allura, pointing towards the metal towers next to her. She understands quickly, her hands lifting and using her power to knock them over. I could hear the strangled gasps of surprise, fear evident by us freaks of nature and what we can do to them.

            Good.

            Allura uses her power to maneuver the crates. Heavy things like this took energy out of her too, but she’s a woman that conserves her energy for emergencies like this, unlike Lance who uses his all the time for the most mundane things. She arranges them all to line up, giving her cover to run up to us, a backpack settled on her back and barely filled.

            "Are you all alright?" She asks, kneeling down beside us.

            "Lance is a hot mess," Keith tells her, peeking past the crates. "I saw about twenty of the agents behind us, but there's no telling how many there actually are."

            "W-What do we do?" Hunk questions frantically, rubbing his gloves together again.

            "Hunk," I say, reaching for his hands. "Electrocute the crates."

            "What? N-No way!" He yanks his hands from my grasp quickly, one glove sliding off into my hand in the process. It's sweaty and banged up, bruises along the fresh skin that hadn't seen the light of day in god knows how long. He's fearful to touch anything, even the ground, without his gloves. "I can't!"

            "Yes you can! You have to!"

            "But I-"

            "Hunk! You're the first line of defense we have!" I yell, grabbing at his shoulders.

            It's been so long since he's used his powers. I can feel tiny zaps of electricity running through my fingers, but I know he doesn't mean to do it. He doesn't practice controlling his powers in fear of what he can do, and someone like him could do deadly damage. If it were me, I wouldn't argue and say I wouldn't feel the same, but now isn't the time for fear. We have to think subjectively.

            "I know you're scared, but use that as fuel and charge the metal! Allura can push it back! That can do some serious damage to them, and it’ll give us cover to run!"

            Allura pushing the crates is already a decent strategy, but I can figure it out in my head that the PSF will think five steps ahead of us. They know who we are, at least they know who _they_ are, and who Lance and Allura are. They know who Hunk is, and are relying on his fear. They know who Keith is, and I would bet anything to believe they have fire protection at the ready.

            So we have to use teamwork. It's the only thing we have left.

            "Hunk, she's right. That'll buy us some time. I'll create a barrier for us to keep running, and we'll make a straight shot for the town nearby." Keith tells him, a hand resting on his shoulder carefully with a look of understanding on his face.

            Hunk is panting, eyes wide in horror. He's scared, but I see something in his eyes that seems to understand the severity of the situation. He's horrified, but he wants freedom and safety just as much as we do.

            "... O-Okay!" He agrees, but I hear the reluctance in his voice.

            "Come out!" The guard yells at us.

            Keith yanks his mask down, revealing jagged scars and healing skin. He was about to hurt himself all over again, but if we put distance between us and the adults, we'd be safe for a little while longer.

            "Allura, you ready?" I ask, quickly busying myself with tucking an arm under Lance's shoulder.

            "Let's do it." She's assured in her words, at the ready.

            Hunk whimpers deep in his throat, as if he's pushing away every fear and everything in his body telling him that this was wrong to do before grabbing at the metal. It's a startle to see sparks go flying, and we all jump back in surprise. He had a lot to let out, and we can see it all visibly as it travels from one connected crate to the next.

            "Allura, do it!" Keith yells.

            Allura stands on her feet and forces her presence forward, jolting every five-thousand pound crate towards the men. There's a huge rush, screams and shouts, and a few cries of pain. I can see Hunk cover his ears from the corners of my eyes.

            I lift Lance to his feet to the best of my abilities, though he's already struggling to stay awake. He staggers against me, clinging to my loose shirt and hanging on like his life depends on it (Not that it doesn't).

            Keith takes in a deep, heavy gasp of air. I watch his cheeks glow red, and just as I step back with Hunk and Allura, I watch that burst of fire leave him on a heavy blast of hot air. It burns my skin from the close contact- I can't imagine how it feels for him- wincing at the bright light as he lines a long path in front of us, effectively blocking the sight of the PSF's. There's no telling how many are left, if any are hiding, but we have to take the chance to run and pray for a goddamn miracle.

            Hunk jumps out of his frightened stupor, helping to pick Lance up off of my shoulder. He weighs nothing to Hunk, who's body mass is far higher than all of ours combined, which gives everyone the perfect opportunity to run at the same pace.

            We flee down the line of fire, my hands up to block the bright light and heat burning against my skin. I'm suddenly too hot, stumbling against the wooden dock that's catching quickly. Too quickly.

            "Allura, up ahead!" Keith yells, pointing to where the dock is suddenly collapsing.

            Her steps slow as she concentrates up ahead on the planks. I don't see it, but Hunk and Keith run forward, walking over what seems to be thin air.

            Ah, that's right. Allura can project a barrier. Sure enough, she's doing it to create a floor beneath us. It's horrifying seeing the rushing, icy water under my feet, the water crashing into planks that fall, splashing and bubbling and-

            "Pidge!"

            It's too late. By the time I've seen it, I've already lost my foot on a plank giving out under me, one that Allura didn't foresee giving out. How could she? The whole dock is falling apart.

            My skin scrapes against jagged edges of wood and nails sticking out in all sorts of directions. My nails claw at the boards, but I slip through the wood giving way too easily, falling into the freezing cold water.

            I gasp, my hands reaching and grasping for something to grab. I can't swim. I was taken to the camp before I had the chance to learn, and I find myself wildly kicking my legs and flailing my arms for purchase of something, _anything_ that can save me.

            Everything around me is falling from the dock. Any piece of wood that comes near me is cooling with embers burning away. A piece lands far too close for comfort, and as I turn to force my eyes open and look for safety, I feel a sharp smack to the back of my head.

            I inhale water, the whole world suddenly spinning. The back of my head aches, and I see the water around me turning a murky color with my blood. I look up at the sky through the water, watching it dim. I can't sink too far, because we're too close to shore, but it seems like it's just vanishing.

            The sounds of rushing water are disappearing. The screams I had heard earlier are fading. The sights around me are going black. All I see is the shadow of something jumping into the water, feeling the press of skin, and then everything goes black.

* * *

 

            I'm incredibly nauseous, lethargic, and a whole bunch of words that my big brain can't even conduce right now.

_"Fuck, she's freezing!"_

_"We need to find shelter!"_

            I hear voices. Distant, but there. Recognizable at first, but it's so hard to hear them. Everything sounds like a giant bell continuously ringing in my ears, nonstop, like tinnitus on full blast.

            Almost like the white noise.

            I try to see, I really do, but I only get bright flashes of light. Glimpses of white like snow. I hear crunches of feet on snow. Panting breaths and rushed talking, but it's all blurry. Everything I try to see and hear is blurry.

_"Fuck, run, run!"_

            Is that Keith? I recognize the tone of panic, but the command to his voice.

            Why was he panicked? I don't remember anymore. Weren't we all back in the cargo crate, sleeping away the bad fish we ate last night?

_"Here, in here!"_

_"This isn't far enough!"_

_"There's a basement!"_

            A basement? Why a basement? Why are we hiding in a basement?

            _"We need to stop and get her somewhere warm! She's going to fucking freeze to death!"_

            Allura? No, that can't be. I've only known her a week, but I know she's not the type of person to swear.

            It feels like minutes go by. It must have been, but anything I heard didn't seem to match up to what they were saying.

            _"They're gone."_

_"She has a fever..."_

_"She needs medicine. She needs a doctor."_

_"Where the fuck are we supposed to go?"_

            I feel warmth. I feel something press into me, like blankets. A lot of them, and something else. I know the feeling, but I can't seem to place it. Like I've been here before, and yet I don't know how I can make that educated guess.

            _"One hundred and five point five. That can't be right..."_

_"It's an old thermometer, right? Try again!"_

_"Keith, she needs a doctor. She's not going to make it..."_

_"Where the fuck do we take her without all of us getting thrown into a camp?"_

_"They wouldn't even help her anyway! No one is going to help any of us kids unless it's into jumpsuits and a fucking warehouse!"_

            What are they saying? What are they talking about? I don't understand.

            Warmth glides down my throat. Something I haven't had in forever, but I distantly recognize the taste. Soup. Tomato soup to be exact. Did Allura find some while scavenging?

            My body is aching. I want to say so. To tell the others I don't feel so well, but even I hear the small whimper that leaves me. I feel the cold creeping up my bones, and no matter how much I curl into what I can only assume is my blanket on the mattress back in the cargo box, I can't stay warm.

            Everything hurts. My throat hurts, my eyes are heavy, and I can't focus on any one particular thing anymore. I don't feel smart like a Green should be. As a matter of fact, the only thing going through my brain is how cold I am.

            _"Lance, what are you doing?"_

_"She needs to stay warm..."_

            I feel that warmth again. Lance's warmth. That feeling when he's touching me, and his powers seep through his fingers, caressing me gently in a cocoon of his emotions.

            It's nothing sad or upset. I sense worry and fear, but there's comfort there. Something heavily laced with content.

            And it's warm. So, so warm...

            _"Holy shit. Her fever broke..."_

* * *

 

            The next time I wake up, it's to a warm light against my back. I feel it seeping into every little pore in my skin. Every little crevice, nook and cranny that's there to take it in. It's welcoming and refreshing, especially after feeling so cold for what felt like an eternity.

            I blink slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the sunlight shining in through the cracks of the blinds in a room I don't recognize. It's awfully bright, with white walls and blue carpet. I see a dresser to one side, and a closet next to it. I'm surrounded in soft, pale blue comforters and sheets, a lot of them, making me feel about a hundred degrees too warm.

            I'm grossly sweating, but I only take notice of it when I sigh, sliding against something warm and soft, but oddly out of place. I open my eyes just a bit more, seeing my arm draped over a chest. A _bare_ chest, that's slightly toned, hairless, and under my head.

            Accurately speaking, my head is on top of a shoulder, with an arm draped around my own and thrown haphazardly over my waist. My face is just barely resting against a pink nipple.

            I look up with a brightly burning face, finding dark skin and dark brown hair inches from my face. A pointed chin is pressed just barely on my forehead, eyes closed so gently and lashes fluttering over his high cheekbones that it casts a soft shadow.

            _Lance..._

            I mouth his name as I sit up, only to feel every bone and muscle in my body argue (more like say _kiss my ass_ ) against me, my head pounding and the world spinning. I lean back against him, resting my head against his shoulder and taking a few deep breaths.

            I distantly notice his natural, salty smell. Something like salt water from a beach, but not like at the docks.

            I wait for the dizziness to subside before I slowly lift my head, feeling something tug at the back of it. Lance's face is so calm, his breathing even, and his fringe gently fluttering over his forehead.

            He's fast asleep.

            It wasn't like I hadn't looked at him like this before. I had, but only in short moments. It's hard to check out someone ( _anyone_ for that matter) without getting caught, and any time I looked at him, it was in passing, at dinner with our little camp fire between us, or when we were getting ready for bed. It was always accompanied with some sort of snarky smirk or Casanova grin.

            Now was none of that. This was him left open and vulnerable, and it was...

            Really nice.

            I lift my hand, taking in the scratches all over the back of it and hesitating before running my cold fingers against his cheek. I see him jump slightly, the stark contrast too much. Blue eyes open slowly, just as tired and groggy as I felt, and blinking slowly. I stare for a few long seconds, not saying anything until his eyes fall to me.

            "... Pidge?" He asks, almost as if he doesn't believe it. In the next few seconds, however, his eyes widen, any semblance of sleep gone from him and replaced with utter relief. I can feel it through his hands when he sits up and grabs my shoulders. "Holy shit! You're awake!"

            "O-Ow, Lance, ow..." I utter, wincing under his touch. He's not grabbing hard at all, but it hurts like hell for some reason.

            "Sorry, sorry..." He apologizes, his touch becoming so gentle it's barely there. He practically hovers over me, and I'm overcome with a sensation of protection. Of safety and relaxation. I sigh deeply, looking up at him, unknowingly laying back against his arm. "Oh my god. You're finally awake..."

            I feel a flood of relief pass over me, followed by more hints of worry. Nothing as insane as it had been in the past, however.

            "W-What happened?" I ask, looking around the room. "Where are we?"

            "You don't remember?" He questions, but at the shake of my head, he offers a tired smile. "Maybe that's for the best. We were running from the adults when the dock gave out. You fell in the freezing ocean, and something hit you on the back of your head. Allura had to stitch it up."

            I vaguely remember the odd tug on the back of my head. I just assumed it was my hair tangled in something, like it usually was, but I guess not.

            "O-Oh..." I utter, blinking slowly as I take in the information. "I-Is everyone okay? Are you okay?"

            Lance smiles, a chuckle from deep in his throat coming up.

            "Everyone is fine thanks to you. Your quick thinking saved all of our asses." He tells me, an arm of his curling around my head, his hand running slowly through my hair. "I knew you were just as deadly as any Orange..."

            I smile at that, reaching up to touch his hand. It's so warm against my cheek, and I must still be cold from the water, because he flinches ever so slightly at the touch.

            "... Why are you naked?" I ask, trying hard not to look down. It's already enough I've seen his chest. Looking anywhere else would be way too much, despite what we had done not too long ago.

            "O-Oh, I'm not. I'm wearing pants, I swear." He assures, a flush of color spreading across his cheeks. "You kept saying how cold you were, and your fever wouldn't go away. I just thought that it would be best to use body heat."

            Textbook knowledge. It was smart of him to think like that, especially under pressure. It's probably what kept me alive too.

            But wait. When had I said I was cold? I don't ever remember saying anything, but, now as I think about it, everything before the gun shots seems like a distant fog hurting the back of my head.

            "We... We were so afraid you weren't going to make it." He says, solemn and tired. I can see the bags under his eyes indicating a lack of sleep, and me waking him up probably disturbed the little sleep he _had_ gotten. "I thought you... I mean... If your fever didn't break a few days ago, we were going to take you to the nearest hospital and pray for the best."

            A few days ago? Wait-

            "A few days..." I mumble, sitting up slightly. Lance leans back to give me room. "How long has it been since the PSF found us?"

            "A week and a half." He answers.

            "Almost two weeks?" I gape at him, looking around the brightly lit room we were in. Now that awareness has come back to me, it isn't hard to figure out that this was a bedroom. Everything from the dresser to the bed and curtains screams bedroom. "Where are we?"

            Lance smiles as he sits up completely, throwing his arms above his head to stretch.

            _No,_ I'm not looking at his muscles, his arms, his chest, and I'm most certainly not blushing.

            "We had to take shelter in this house. Well, the basement first. We were just desperate to find some place warm to get you and Hunk. Thankfully this house is one of the many abandoned in this neighborhood, or we'd be fucked." He tells me, slowly getting out of bed. His sweats hang low on his hips, and I avert my eyes, rolling to lay on my stomach and push myself up.

            "Did something happen to Hunk?"

            "He jumped in after you. He's fine though. More than fine actually." Lance bends over to retrieve his discarded shirt, one I hadn't seen him wear at all since I joined them. "Since he used off all the built up power, he's been beaming with energy since we got here. He's like he used to be before the IAAN disease spread."

            The information is both relieving and intriguing. I hadn't known who Hunk was before this, but it sounds like Lance did.

            I was glad to know he was doing better.

            "And the others?"

            "Everyone is fine. Don't worry. We were all more worried about you."

            Before I can ask any more questions, because I sure as hell have a lot of them, Lance tucks an arm under my head and lifts me up slowly. My arms go around his shoulders quicker than he can make them, and it's only now that I realize that all I'm wearing is a thin tank top, the straps like spaghetti and having a hard time staying up.

            "U-Uhm..." I flush as I look away, trying to fix a strap.

            "Allura dressed you. I swear I haven't looked or anything like that."

            To be honest, I didn't think he would. As much as he had gloated about being a lady killer within the week (weeks, I guess) I had known him, he let off that virgin vibe. I have no room to talk, but it's kind of obvious.

            "Thanks..." I mumble with a shy smile, still finding it hard to look at him. We'd been laying in this bed together for however long we had, pretty bare and vulnerable, especially me. It's put a few things in perspective for me.

            Like that kiss before the PSF's found us. That whole moment before they found us and forced us out of our little safe haven.

            "Of course," Lance tucks his other arm under my legs, pulling me up. I'm wearing a pair of oversized shorts, the waist band uncomfortably tight around my hips. The hems barely reach my mid-thigh in this position, and if I wasn't holding on to him, I'd be pulling them down.

            I'm not used to this much touching. Girls and guys aren’t allowed to be around each other in the camps, and the only guys I ever saw were the armed guards, some of which had a funny way of showing their control over the young girls there.

            Lance's touch is different though. Gentle despite the stern grip he has on me, carrying me into the dark hallway. The arm around my back is gentle too, and I feel cozy in his grasp. Safe and warm, and for once I notice that he's reeled in his powers, no longer afflicting others with his emotions.

            The house is small. I wasn't sure where we were in contrast to where we had left, not that I ever knew where we were to begin with, but it's a cozy home. I hear talking coming from down the hall, and once we come into a brightly lit room, a kitchen, I see the others.

            Allura and Keith are sitting at an island in the middle. Keith is wincing every time she touches him, but I can see the pink ointment on her fingers brushing against his recent burns. Everything looks like it's healing well, albeit of a few blisters that look like his main source of pain. She's gentle though, and it seems like he does genuinely appreciate what she's doing, even when it hurts.

            Hunk is standing at the counter beside the stove, a bowl and whisk in hand and mixing up something that's making the air smell heavenly. I smell fresh food that makes my stomach growl so loudly that I'm surprised no one heard it.

            "Look who's awake," Lance announces, walking us into the room. Everyone turns to look at us, and instantly the cold, exhausted expressions on Allura and Keith's faces brighten with happiness.

            "Pidge!"

            The whole group is away from their previous tasks and by Lance and I so fast I almost think they teleported. Allura is feeling my head and Keith is checking my pulse, Hunk peeking over their heads to look over my body for any other signs of injury, but beyond the scratches and stitches, there are none.

            I'm not used to this kind of attention. It's overwhelming, and Lance seems to sense that as Allura presses her own hand into the back of her forehead, checking to make sure we were the same temperature. He settles me down on the stool Allura had been sitting at, making sure I'm balanced and okay before sitting in Keith's chair, who makes no complaints.

            "Holy shit, you have no idea how good it is to see you up, Pidge." Keith says with a heavy breath, like it's the first time he can breathe now that I'm awake.

            "Yeah, we really thought you weren't going to make it." Hunk says, leaning over the counter.

            "I wouldn't have if it wasn't for you guys," I say, offering up a tired smile. Hunk returns it before turning back to continue what he was doing.

            "You saved our asses first," Keith says, resting a hand on my shoulder. "That's the least we can do."

            "You had us all so worried." Allura tells me, giving me a small half-hug around my shoulders. "I'm so glad you're okay."

            "Thanks, I'm glad you guys are okay too."

            "Not as much as Lance is," Hunk says, turning around, whisk in hand as he stands tall. _"What are we going to do without her? We can't let her die! I can't lose her!"_

            Lance grabs a stray napkin off the counter and throws it at Hunk, attempting to decrease the space between them by leaning far over the island.

            _"She's not like other girls. She means so much to me,"_ Keith joins in, walking over to Hunk's side of the kitchen. I can hear it in the way he talks that he's still in pain, but he's forcing a small smile that crinkles his peeling cheeks. _"If it means turning myself in, then fine, but she needs medical attention!"_

            "You're a bunch of dicks!" Lance snaps, covering the side of his face visible to me. I can't help but giggle at their antics, happy to see Hunk in such a bright, cheery mood. Even Keith seems to have woken up on the right side of the bed this morning.

            "We're just messing with you, Lance." Keith said, arms crossing over his chest as he leans into the counter. "You're so easy to do that to."

            "Keith, little help?" Hunk asks, motioning to the kitchen stove that's clicking, refusing to light. Keith blinks at the stove like its offended him somehow before spitting in its direction, but that little bit of spit is a small ember that catches flame the second it gets to the gas.

            Seeing him use his power he seems so broken by is a liberating and somewhat frightening experience.

            "Are you making fish?" I ask, remembering that my stomach was falling in on itself in pain. I’m so hungry.

            "Nope!" Hunk chirps, tossing a few things I didn't recognize into the frying pan. "This place had some things that weren't expired yet. I dunno where the family went to, because it's clear this place is abandoned, but they left all of their food behind."

            "Oh boy," Lance says, rubbing his hands together. "You're in for a treat, Pidge."

            "Hunk is the best cook." Allura says, already excited, but it's only brief. Before I can fantasize about the food, or before Hunk can really start cooking, there's a knock at the front door.

            Everyone stops, and the kitchen grows eerily silent. Even the sound of the food sizzling in the frying pan doesn't sound right. It sounds too loud. Anyone who so much as _blinked_ would be too loud, and if a pin dropped, it felt like the world would explode.

            Keith pulls his scarf over his cheeks and covers his face, grabbing a knife Hunk had been using off of the counter. He slowly walks past us, silently gesturing for us to move and hide.

            Lance wraps his arms around me before I can even move to get out of the chair, picking me up and bringing me to the other side of the counter with Hunk.

            Allura is right on Keith's heels despite his silent protests, but he doesn't argue too long. He has no patience for her stubbornness, and effectively ignores her advances.

            Lance's grasp is so tight against my fragile body. It hurts like hell, but I don't protest or complain. I'm too scared to make any sounds. I'm afraid to even breathe.

            Keith goes to the door, hand with the knife behind his back as he presses into it. We all tense as he tries to look over the window to see who is out there, but the window is too high for him to see out of.

            He has no other choice then.

            "Who is it?" He asks, the hand holding the knife shaking.

            "Knowledge or death..." The voice replies, a deep baritone so recognizable that all of us breathe a sigh of relief.

            Keith rushes to open the door, a blast of freezing air and snow rushing into the small room. Shiro is standing on the other side, bundled up so tightly in a heavy winter jacket, a scarf, and his hood up it's almost hard to known it's him. The only reason we know it's him is because of the response.

            "Shut the door," He tells Keith, rushing into the room and looking behind him, afraid someone was watching him. Keith does just that, and before the older man can even prepare himself, Keith launches himself into his arms, hugging him with the fear that he'd never see him again. We all feared it.

            "I'm so glad you're here!" Keith speaks rapidly into his jacket, just as Allura throws her arms around them both.

            "I'm so glad you guys are okay," Shiro says, holding the two of them close.

            "You're a sight for sore eyes, Shiro." Hunk tells him, turning to check the food that was letting off a familiar burning smell.

            "Come on, guys. Come sit down," Shiro says, mainly to Keith and Allura as he pulls away. They do just that, ushering back into the small kitchen and sitting at the island.

            Lance finally lets me down, knowing its safe, and we aren't in any danger. I stay close regardless, gripping at his shirt and standing with most of my weight against him. My legs are shaking from a lack of use and food, and he seems to understand. He keeps his arm around my waist the whole time.

            "Let me see," Shiro says to Keith, motioning to the scarf around his face. The teen sighs before carefully tugging it down, wincing as skin catches on the satin fabric.

            "I just put medicine on it," Allura tells him, looking over his shoulder.

            "Holy hell," Shiro sighs, gently taking Keith's face into his hands to inspect the damage. "This was finally starting to heal too."

            "We're lucky this is all we got away with." Keith mumbles, looking away like he's ashamed. Shiro seems to remember that we're all in here, turning to look at everyone with concern in his eyes.

            "Pidge, are you okay?" He asks, noticing me leaning against Lance. "You look like you're at deaths doorstep."

            "I feel like it," I say, for some reason etching as close to Lance as physical space will allow. It's like I'm looking for the feeling of protection.

            "She fell into the bay and hit her head. She has a couple of stitches." Hunk said, resting a bare hand on my shoulder that's warm and smells like garlic.

            Shiro doesn't look the least bit happy about this news. Especially since the stitches aren't my only injury. Everything else is just scratches and bruising, but I can deduce by looking at my arm that I'm probably paler than normal, and I'm sure my hair is a matted mess. I don't even remember the last time I had a proper bath, if _ever_ , since I left the camp.

            "We were beginning to think we'd have to take her to the nearest hospital." Lance tells him, his arm tightening on my waist almost possessively. "Her fever broke a few days ago."

            "I can't imagine the last time you've had proper medication or shots either." Shiro says, more as an objective thought, but I find it painfully funny.

            The last time I vaguely remember getting any shots was when I was six, and I don't even remember what they were for. I think it was for the flu, but I'm not sure, and I'm not going to pretend I knew one hundred percent.

            "I'm glad to see you're alright," He continues, looking back to Keith, and then to Hunk. "All of you. I was so horrified finding the dock the way it was. I wasn't sure what to do or where to look."

            "We didn't think we'd get to see you again either." Allura mumbles, looking down in her lap. "We were actually discussing moving again when Pidge was better. It's not safe here, and too close to the docks. We need to find a place further away, and with more access to resources like food and medical supplies."

            "I'm glad I found you guys then..." Shiro sighs, setting a hand on Keith's shoulder. "I'll take you out of the town. We'll go out farther into the country where the old farm houses are left abandoned."

            "What about supplies?" I ask.

            "There's a small town I know that still has a few shopping centers there. Food, clothing, medicine, and anything else you could need for the winter. Not much has been raided since the last time I went there to check the place out, so you should be safe there." The older man assures. "And of course I'll come to help."

            "Don't put yourself out there, Shiro." Keith says worriedly. "You're going to have eyes on you if you keep sticking your neck out for us."

            "I'd do anything to make sure you guys are safe."

            The words are protective, and the kindest words I had heard from any adult since Matt and I were taken from our parents. I can feel the air in the room, the tense atmosphere lighten with the way he spoke, and the soft look in his eyes.

            We're safe, at least for now. We can put our trust in him.

* * *

 

            The old house is exactly as Shiro had described a week ago.

            We walk in slowly, scoping out the area. It's a big house, but old, with wooden floors that squeak under our feet and walls with paint that's peeling. Old picture frames line the hallway and up the stairs to the second floor, leading to a few bedrooms and bathrooms. Shiro had found this place for the soul purpose of giving us room to move around, to have our own rooms, and to breathe in fresh air and feel safe in an environment.

            As said, there's a few shops down a mile away. There's an old medical clinic that's run down and torn apart, but hasn't been raided. Just vandalized. There's a gas station, and a gun store two miles out. It's a very small town, and an hour away from where we were hiding.

            It's far into the country, hidden by miles of forest and a lake, with roads so grown over that it would take some time to find the proper route up here. Shiro knew of it, because he memorized it for the purpose of keeping us safe.

            I hold Lance's hand as we all walk in, my worn in boots Shiro had gotten me making the floor beneath me creak. The house is silent except for us walking around. As Hunk walks to the kitchen with a bag of nonperishables, Keith walks to the living room, and Allura walks up the stairs. Lance and I linger, sharing a glance at one another before following her.

            "This place is bigger than I'd thought it'd be..." I mumble, following Lance slowly. It's all I can manage. I'm still not fully recovered, but staying at the small house in the fishing town risked giving us away. Even if I was horribly suffering, I could do it here too. We had to leave.

            "Yeah..." Lance sighs in agreement. I feel his sweaty palms tighten around mine.

            "Shiro did say this place used to belong to a big family..." Allura mentions, turning down the hall to the first door on our right. When she opens it, we see a master bedroom. Something that looked like it belonged to an older couple, judging by the design of it, with a giant queen bed in the middle. Old photos lined the dresser and bedside tables, along with a cigar tray filled with ashes, the scent of smoke stuck to the walls.

            "I guess that works out for us..." I say.

            There's an air of restlessness between us and the house. We'd been uneasy since we left, but now we felt like this for the simple fact that this was unknown territory. We tried not to let ourselves get too comfortable in the house, because we knew we had to leave. We had tried that with the cargo crate too, but it didn't help. The whole place was gone now, probably under water in the bay. I'd hate to think of what became of the horses and the cow.

            We didn't know this place, and it always felt weird walking into someone else's home. No one lived here anymore. It had been abandoned since IAAN broke out and kids were forced out of their homes, but it still felt like we were intruding on property that didn't belong to us.

            We didn't want to grow attached to it either. We'd have to leave again at some point, and that could be anywhere from a few days to a few years from now.

            Lance and I wander from Allura as she checks out a bathroom, heading the farthest room down the hall. It's another bedroom, and judging by the pink walls, tan carpet, dolls, stuffed animals, and floral pattern bedding, it's easy to come to the conclusion that this was a little girls' room.

            "I can take this one." I say, motioning to the bed. "There's only a twin in here, and it's small. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who will fit in it."

            "Oh," Lance utters, looking down at the floor. "Right... I forgot about that."

            "Forgot about what?" I ask, looking up at him curiously. "That I'm small?"

            "No, no. Not that." He rubs the back of his neck while a blush dusts his cheeks. "It's just... I-I got so used to sharing a bed with you... Kind of forgot the plan was for everyone to have their own room."

            "Oh..." I breathe, finding it hard not to giggle. "We've done a bit more than share a bed."

            "Wha- I-I know!" He yips in surprise, and now the blush on his cheeks is even more noticeable. I giggle some more.

            "I'll be right down the hall."

            "I know..."

            That doesn't seem to quell any of his worries. I can feel it all pulsing through his fingertips in my hand.

            "Lance..." I say, cupping a cheek. "You okay...?"

            "Yeah, I am." He assures, squeezing my hand. "It's just..."

            "Nervous?"

            "I'm doing it again, aren't I?" He asks, looking down at his hand and sighing. "I'm sorry. I just... Can't control myself around you."

            There's a moment of quiet. I purse my lips together to keep from snickering as the words he said register in his mind. I can tell just by the way the tips of his ears turn red that it dawns on him how that sounded.

            "Wait. That didn't come out right. Shit fuck."

            I giggle as I stand on my toes, bringing myself up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. It's been so long since I've properly kissed him, and I'm not sure I'd considered what happened between us as proper. That's not typically how I imagined my first kiss to go with how rushed it became, but the sensation is still the same. My heart still pounds, and my eyes beam up at him when he barely returns it, too slow to catch my lips with his.

            Just as I catch the gleam in his eyes, the signs of a challenge taken up when I pulled away too fast, someone clears their throat. We jump back, Lance bumping into the banister while I smack head first into the wall behind me just in time to see Allura standing there, her hands resting on her hips that jutted to one side.

            Even hidden under her heavy coat, the scarf around her neck, and the black and grey spackled hat on her head, the girl looked like any model on the cover of those magazines my mom used to read. Teenage attitude and all.

            "Pick a room yet?" She asks, her thin eyebrows lifting and disappearing under the rim of her hat.

            "Oh, y-yeah." I say, motioning to the open door beside us. "I'll take this room."

            "Alright. I'll let the others know. The master bedroom is big enough for two people if anyone wants to share, but I'm going to assume Hunk is going to take it. He'll enjoy having a big bed for once."

            "Sounds great." Lance agrees, clearing his throat and avoiding all eye contact.

            Allura spares one last glance at us before her head shakes, as if she's rolling her eyes internally before leaving us be. I look up at Lance, smiling shyly. I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment, but I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who looks like that. Lance is just about as red as a tomato at this point.

* * *

 

            I sigh as I roll over in bed, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.

            This was something I had always wished for. A nice, warm bed in a warm, heated house. A roof over my head that didn't sound like it was about to cave in if one more snowflake fell on it. Food ready for morning that wouldn't make me sick to my stomach, and knowing I didn't have to work until my fingers bled, and yet I'm troubled.

            It's the loneliness. I know I had told Lance I was right down the hall, and that was the truth. He took the bedroom right next to mine, something that looked like it belonged to a teenage boy at one point, complete with posters of bands we didn't know hanging along the walls, but not having him by my side is lonely.

            I don't feel right without him beside me, breathing the same air as me.

            We're safe, at least for now. No one knows where we are, and Shiro was careful about leaving no trace of our presence behind. As far as the government knew, we had died in the fire on the dock, probably washed away in the bay, but I was left uneasy.

            I didn't feel comfortable without him. What he said earlier made so much sense to me now as I lay here, my fingers pulling on the frills of the plush duvet I lay under.

            The bed is so soft. At any other time I probably would have collapsed from exhaustion had I felt something so comfortable beneath me, and as I still suffer from a persistent cough and congestion, it should make complete and total sense that I would, but I can't.

            It's stupid, because he's right down the hall, but I miss him. I actually miss sleeping in the same bed as Lance.

            That warmth I always felt made me feel safe, even when I hadn't known it. He made me feel protected, even as we slept through the night. I knew someone was there for me. _Everyone_ was there for me, but now it feels like there's a huge distance between us.

            I hate this.

            I sigh as I slowly get out of bed, tugging a mermaid plush I had found with me as I slowly walk out of the room. The floors creek under my feet, so loud and disturbing this late at night. There aren't any seagulls nearby to cover up the sounds, and so far into the forest, I felt like the whole world was silent.

            I softly knock on the door next to mine, listening intently from outside. I hear a small _come in_ before I enter, seeing Lance laying on his side, his head lifted and shoulders back to look over at me, looking sleepy.

            "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up..." I mumble, standing awkwardly at the door.

            "No, you didn't. I can't sleep." He says, rolling to lay on his back. "What about you?"

            "I can't sleep either..."

            Lance motions with his hand after a quiet moment, and I follow the silent gesture. I shut the door behind me, walking across the rough carpet until I'm at his bedside. Lance scoots over on his twin sized bed, the size of the mattresses we had back at the dock, and lets me slide under the covers with him. His blankets aren't nearly as thick as mine were, but his bed is by far warmer than mine is. I think that was just him.

            "Why can't you sleep?" He asks. I stay quiet, curling up into his chest and hiding my face in the crook of his neck. It's not that I don't want to answer. It's just that I don't feel like it. I'm tired, physically and mentally, and now that he's here, I'm ready for sleep.

            When he doesn't get an answer, he chuckles. I feel it against my palms, along with his beating heart and the heat of his skin under his shirt.

            I look up, realizing how close we are. It seems natural to do, but I guess outside of us, it would look odd. We haven't known each other that long, and yet all I want is to be around him.

            Maybe it shouldn't come as much of a surprise as it does, but it only now hits me like a bullet train that I like him. I _like_ like him. I like him like all those girls in our cabin used to talk about when making up fairy tale stories of knights in shining armor. I like him like how the princesses in all of my old childhood books liked their princes.

            I like him a lot, and damn it, the realization is like falling right back into the frigid water in the bay.

            "Oh..." I breathe.

            "What?" He asks me, his head tilting slightly into the pillow. It exposes his neck in such a way that the moonlight from outside shines through the blinds on his skin. I swallow hard.

            "I-I uh... Like you..." I say before I can fully comprehend what I'm doing. You know, for a Green, I make some pretty terrible decisions. "A lot..."

            Lance stays silent for a few moments. I'm not sure how to take that, but I can't seem to tear my eyes off of his, trying to read the expression written on his face.

            "... Really?" Is all he comes up with.

            "I mean... Yeah?" If this were to be anymore teenage melodramatic, I would probably die of embarrassment. "Is that bad?"

            "N-No, that's great. Awesome. It's... Wow..." He smiles and laughs, a hand of his touching my cheek gently. "I was afraid that... Ever since what happened, maybe that was just... Kind of a moment."

            "It kind of was," I say, and there's a quick moment where he looks crestfallen. "But I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to." He looks relieved to hear that.

            "That's good, because I really didn't want you thinking I do that to every pretty girl I meet. I've uh, never actually done that before. Like... Ever."

            "Me either..." I say. It should be kind of obvious.

            I was forced into the camp and ten, and lived there until I was sixteen. Boys and girls were separated to avoid any... _Mishaps,_ so of course I had never done something like that before. Even if I wanted to, we were never given enough time to do it.

            "But uhm..." Lance's hand runs down my neck, touching where my shirt exposes my collarbone. I shudder at the touch, and I don't know if he realizes it, but he barely runs over the top of my breast with his wrist. I don't think he does. "I-I would like to try the kiss again..."

            "Me too..." I say.

            I see the eagerness in his eyes. I feel it through his hand, and before anything more is said, his lips are on me again.

            It's a proper kiss. This is more like what I've read out of my storybooks as a kid, and when our lips touch, it isn't something fueled with lust.

            It's soft. Gentle. Lips slotted together just right, with his hand resting on my shoulder, and my own trapped between our chests. A soft breath shared between us, hidden under the covers, hiding from the horrible world trying to do away with us and safe in this little bubble of a room.

            It's perfect in every sense of the word, and I can't think of anything more than to just hold him in my arms until morning.

* * *

 

            I wince, biting on my bottom lip at the sharp tug on the back of my head. Hunk settles a hand down on my knee, a soft, reassuring pat, but that's all he can do.

            "I'm sorry Pidge. Just two more." Allura says, stopping for just a moment to set aside another wad of bloody tissues.

            "It's alright..." I hiss, and instead of trying to assure her I'm not in as much pain as I clearly am (And obviously showing), I reach for Hunk's hand and silently squeeze it.

            "I wish we had something to numb up the spot at least. The ice pack clearly wasn't enough." Hunk says, looking to the table where said ice pack was, along with a napkin and a few pieces of thread.

            "Clearly," I retort impishly. "A-Almost done?"

            "One more," Allura tells me, and I sigh in relief. It had only been five small stitches, but damn did it hurt getting them taken out. Especially since all she used was regular sewing thread. That was all she had at the time she put them in.

            "Thank god," I huff, squeezing tightly around Hunk's bigger hand. "D-Did it heal okay?"

            "Looks like it. You'll still have to be gentle with it though, and I want to keep this wrapped up until it starts to scab." Allura finally set down the small sewing scissors and tweezers, the last stitch out and laying on a bloody towel. My shoulders drop with relief, and I let out a sigh. "All done."

            "Nice job, Allura." Keith says, alerting his presence in the kitchen. I don't turn my head, fearing I'd pull open what she'd just fixed, but I know he comes up behind me to check out the injury. "Looks really clean. You're getting a lot better at this."

            "That's good. I'd hate to do to Pidge what I did to Lance." She says, taking off the doctors gloves she found and walking to the sink to wash her hands.

            "To Lance...?" I ask, frowning towards her. "What'd you do to him?"

            "It was my first time trying to stitch anyone up, but he had a gunshot wound to the leg that needed it. Ask to see it some time. He's got a giant scar there from how badly I did." She says this like it's the easiest thing to say.

            "It was either stitches or dying. You saved his life." Keith reminds her, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter. Hunk gives my knee a pat before getting up, heading back to preparing food for us that he had stopped doing just to sit with me.

            "Saved whose life?"

            I turn all the way in my seat to avoid turning my head, watching as Lance walks into the room sluggishly, his eyes fogged over with exhaustion, and his shoulders slumped.

            I hadn't stayed the night in his room again, because I fell asleep on the couch, but I'm wishing I had. He doesn't seem to sleep well these days, and especially if someone isn't there to make him sleep.

            "We were just talking about the stitches Allura gave you." Hunk tells him with a look over his shoulder. "Whoa, what happened to you?"

            Lance looks confused, much like myself, but I see it quickly enough. The disheveled appearance, the way his hair is sticking out in all sorts of directions, the bags under his eyes, and the way his skin looks pale. He's got a darker complexion compared to me, but right now, he's looking a little grey like he's sick.

            "What do you mean?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck with a yawn.

            "No sleep?" Keith asks.

            "Nope," Lance sighs, wandering around the island until he gets to Hunk. The teen hands him a plate of food he'd just finished, patting his shoulder once his hand was free.

            "Go back to bed, Lance. You need sleep." He tells him, and I nod in silent agreement.

            "I'm fin-"

            "Bah ah ah!" Hunk stuffs a piece of bread between his lips before Lance can argue any more. At any other time, the gesture would have been funny, and I would have covered my mouth to hide the smile. Now, however, with how exhausted Lance looks, yet still tries to argue and save face around everyone, I'm not even smiling. "Go, Lance. We'll wake you up when lunch is ready."

            "Maybe dinner if you're in a coma." Keith throws out there, but Lance grunts around the bread in response, slowly leaving the room.

            "He's not sleeping again." Allura mentions, sighing heavily as Hunk sets a plate in front of her.

            "Does he do that often?" I ask, but my eyes stray from Allura. It's not hard to see the smirk on her lips. After all, she knows my curiosity for the situation isn’t from being a Green, but from having a piqued interest in Lance.

            "Lance is the type of guy who hides when he's in pain. He'll argue until he's blue that he's fine, even when it's obvious he's not." Hunk tells me, and I'm next to get a plate of scrambled eggs and corn, a piece of buttered bread off to the side of it all.

            Ah, so this wasn't a new thing. By the sound of it, they all knew about it too. Lance hid his pain for reasons of his own, and he didn't do it well. It wasn't a secret, but maybe Lance thought he did a decent job at hiding it.

            "I don't know why he does it exactly, but I think it's because he hates seeing other people upset more."

            "But... None of us are upset." I say, looking around. "Right?"

            "Not particularly, but it might not even be about us. I bet it's just the whole situation. Maybe he's missing Kaltenicker." Keith suggests, stealing Allura bread, but receiving not much argument from her. She's too busy shoveling eggs to care.

            "Kaltenicker?" I say, the name foreign on my tongue.

            "Remember that cow in the barn with the two horses?" Keith asks between bites. "That was her. Lance loved that cow more than anything on the planet. Lord knows what happened to her."

            "If she was stuck in her stall when everything went down, she might not have survived." Hunk says, his shoulders slumping at the thought.

            My mind travels to different places as they talk, turning to look over my shoulder at the hallway like Lance is still standing there. My heart sinks a little just at the thought.

* * *

 

            Lance is sitting on his bed when I knock on his door cracked open, peeking inside to make sure he's decent. He looks up, the mopey expression he had been wearing disappearing when his eyes fall to me. I cherish the light I see in those blue irises, my heart rate picking up slightly when he looks at me like that.

            "Hey Pidge," He greets, sitting up a little in his bed, his plate from dinner set aside on the night stand.

            "Hi," I say, shutting the door behind me. "You didn't fall back asleep."

            "Ah, my brain won't shut up. Per the usual." Lance says with a small chortle. Something in the pit of my stomach drops at that. "What's up...?"

            "Oh, uh..." I falter, my hands clutching the blue scarf between my fingers tightly before lifting it for him. "I-I made this for you..."

            "For...?" He stops mid-sentence when I walk over, handing him the scarf with slightly trembling fingers.

            "Y-Yeah. I haven't seen you with one yet, and I had time, so... Just thought maybe you'd like one..." I feel my cheeks warming up, unbearably in fact.

            "Holy shit, Pidge." Lance sits up entirely, kicking his blankets aside to let his legs hang over the side of the bed and wrap the scarf around his neck. "You made this?"

            "Yeah..."

            "That's amazing. Wow, Pidge, this is..." He shakes his head like he's at a loss for words. "Thank you. Seriously, this is so wonderful."

            "You're welcome."

            Lance stands up and walks over to the mirror hanging from the back of the closet door, giving a little twirl to see the ends flop around at his sides. I had thought earlier when I started that it would need to be really long; Lance was a tower compared to me, but now I was beginning to think that maybe I had made it too long.

            "How did you do this?" He asks, looking at me through the mirror.

            "Uh, the people who used to be in Hunk's room had a closet full of old knitting supplies. There's lots of yarn in there, a bunch of knitting needles and stuff, so I thought I could get some use out of it."

            Patterns were my strong point, after all.

            "Holy shit," He utters with a big grin, turning around to face me. "And you made it all in one day. That's so cool."

            I shrug my shoulders lightly.

            "I mean, I never knew how to knit until IAAN broke out..."

            Which was the truth. Knowledge came naturally to me. Things like knitting made a thousand times more sense once I was given the title of a Green.

            My nonna would be so proud.

            Lance walks up to me and wraps his arms around me, enveloping me in a warm hug. I sigh against his neck when I feel the content swarm through me, throwing my arms over his shoulders to keep him close. He's so warm naturally, but the added abilities make his hugs so worth it. I can feel his heart beating hard against my chest, his fingers tightening along the small of my back, and his breathing evening out. The wool of his new scarf tickles my nose.

            "You seemed so bummed out earlier..." I mention, and at the words, his hands tighten around me. "I wanted to do something to make you feel better."

            "It definitely did," He says, leaning back to look me in the eyes.

            "Can I... Ask what's wrong...?"

            His smile falls slowly, eyes drifting to look down at the floor between us. His hands are so light against my sides that it feels like they're barely touching me, even as my hands rest against his shoulders.

            "I just... I wonder what happened to Kaltenicker. That's all."

            "The cow," I say, as if I'm confirming the fact. I already know who Kaltenicker is, but seeing him nod only verifies any worries I had.

            "I mean, she's been with us for almost as long as this whole shit show has gone down, and it's been almost a month since we left the docks. She was in her stall too... I know it's stupid, but..."

            "That's not stupid," I tell him, my brows furrowing in annoyance. "She was your cow. You loved her."

            "Well, yeah, but..."

            "No," I shake my head. "Putting your love into something isn't stupid. I don't care if it's a stick. If your heart is in the right place, then it's not stupid to love something that much."

            Granted, I didn't really _know_ Kaltenicker, nor acknowledge that she existed. All I knew was that we had milk every day, and it was a pretty sweet deal, but I had a dog at one point. I loved Bae Bae with all my heart, still do, and sometimes I wonder myself if he's okay. If he's still with mom and dad. He wasn't an old dog, but sometimes I wonder if he's still alive.

            Lance seems to understand where I'm coming from. He must have, because he falls back into the hug with me, his head resting gently on top of my. I let him do as he pleases, keeping my hands around his waist to keep him against me as we gently rock back and forth. It's not a dance per say, but it might look like it if we move our feet a little more.

            I feel Lance's breath against the top of my head. I hear it in his chest when he stutters, and I feel him swallow hard against me. He's having a hard time holding back his worries and concerns, and all I can wonder is why he would. We're all in the same shitty situation, and all of us have our problems, but just as much as we fear talking about them, we know we can, because we're a team. We have each other's backs for the long haul.

            I just hope Lance feels the same way.

* * *

 

            When the clock hits midnight, I slide out of Lance's arms. He's fast asleep, dead to the world as I crawl out of bed, setting the covers back over top of him.

            _Finally,_ I think, watching him for a few quiet moments. Lance really needed this sleep.

            The only sound in the house is the sound of an animal, a squirrel or bird, running across the roof. I never would have thought that it would be so encouraging to drop my guard, crawl under the covers and go back to sleep, but I can't. Not until I get what I need.

            I kiss Lance's cheek softly, carefully so as not to wake him up. He doesn't even do anything beyond breathe through his dreamless sleep, his fingers twitching for a short second. I smile, hoping I get to see this again before leaving the room.

            I quickly get my jacket on and the muck boots that had been in the barn. The only things that fit me besides my prison shoes. I'm dressed heavily in winter clothing, prepared for the cold and ready for the long trek.

            It may have been an hour drive up here, but it'd be a long ass walk back to the docks.

            The house creeks like it's trying to tell on me. Every step down the stairs was like the world was trying to tattle on me, trying to wake the whole god damn house and rat me out. I barely make it to the front door, ready for the blast of cold air and possible snow when the sound of someone clearing their throat catches me off guard. I jump back against the door in surprise, ready for a fight, because this had to be an adult. Someone was here to take me away, but the sight of Allura stops me from reaching for anything that would be the best weapon I could use.

            "A-Allura..." I let out a deep breath, feeling my heart rate drop quickly, the adrenaline rushing through my veins almost painful.

            "You got somewhere to be, Pidge?" Allura asks, her arms crossed over her chest.

            "I-I uh... Was gonna go check out the barn..." I say, looking away from her. Her blue eyes read too much into me.

            "At midnight?" She asks, her head tilting to the side.

            "... Yep."

            "Pidge." Her tone holds no room for argument. "I know you're going to find Kaltenicker."

            My shoulders slump in immediate defeat.

            "How'd you know?"

            "You're a smart girl, Pidge, but you are very blunt about letting your thoughts run wild." She said with a sympathetic smile. "I know you want to make Lance feel better, and one mention of Kaltenicker was all it took."

            "Your deduction skills are impressive." I say, shrugging gently. "You sure you aren't a Green?"

            She sputters out a laugh.

            "Well then, let's get going." She says, reaching over to pluck her coat from the coat hanger beside me.

            "Wait, what?" I ask, watching her shuck it on. "Allura, you should stay here. It's too dangerous going back to the dock."

            "And yet you were going to go by yourself." She remarks with a side long smile. "Please, Pidge. I'd never let you do anything that dangerous on your own. We're in this together, whether you like it or not."

            I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

* * *

 

            For the most part, the horrible hours long (Wasn't sure what hour we were on at this point) journey is quiet. Minus the snapping of twigs and branches we walked on, the crunch of ice as we walked over small brooks, and the chatter of owls and deer, we don’t speak much.

            I had been in a cabin full of girls when I was back in the camp. We weren't allowed to be anywhere near the boys, and yet I felt far more comfortable talking with Hunk, Keith and Lance than I ever did with Allura.

            She is so much more feminine than I am. What with her long hair pulled up in a bun under her hat. Her always perfect complexion, her waist line that was the perfect hour glass figure I always heard the other girls talking about in our cabin. The way she walks with long, confident strides, one foot always stepping in front of the other to accentuate the movement of her hips.

            _Her boobs._ Curse me and my flat chest. My mom didn't even have a flat chest if I remember correctly.

            I'm undoubtedly intimidated by her in every way possible. I don’t hate her; Allura is a fantastic person, but she seems like the type of girl that, if everything hadn't fallen apart with the disease, she would have had that life in school and outside of it I always wanted. The perfect, popular friends. The boyfriend who was a football player. Perfect date for prom. Drove a fancy car her friends were envious of.

            The type of girl everyone wanted to be. The type of girl who got perfect grades without even trying, but also was the person who'd read all that boring crap for graduation, because she got the best grades.

            It's totally stereotyping, I know, but I can't help it. I'm totally jealous of how self-assured she is in herself and her friends, so it makes it all the harder to find something to talk about.

            Does she like books too? Math? Maybe science? Cause I love all of it. Maybe she’s someone who likes going over the value of Pi and discussing the pattern it presents.

            Or... maybe not.

            "Pidge...?" Allura calls for me after what feels like forever. I was just starting to get comfortable with the idea that maybe we wouldn't say anything at all until she spoke.

            "Uhh, yeah?"

            "You alright?" She asks, sending a glance towards me over her shoulder.

            "I'm fine, why?"

            "You're usually chattier." Allura tells me.

            "Oh..." Yeah, because the guys were around. Despite how long it had been since I had been around guys, as a tomboy myself, I naturally gravitate more towards them. "I guess I'm just... Tired..."

            "I wouldn't be surprised." Allura says, slowly nodding. "I don't even know what time it is, or how long we've been walking for."

            "Long enough to know that cow better be alive." I remark. It's cold and dark, but Allura laughs anyway.

            "I agree," She gets the last of her giggles out behind her hand. "It would mean a lot to Lance if we could bring Kaltenicker back. I'd love to see the look on his face."

            "I bet it would make his day."

            "His whole _year,"_ She corrects me. "Only recently, maybe a few months before you got here, did he finally start getting back to his usual, happy self. I was happy to know I hadn't hurt him completely."

            "You...?" I ask, tilting my head. "Why...? What did you do?"

            Allura bites at her bottom lip, looking up into the line of trees above us, the canopy that hid the moon, and hums almost thoughtfully.

            "He wasn't really keen on being around me when we... You know."

            "... No?" I have no idea what she's going on about. "You mean the stitches thing?"

            "No, no. Not that." She waves off the idea like it's hilarious. "Lance and I sort of... Dated... For a while."

            The news brings me to a complete stop.

            "Y-You and _Lance?"_ I gape at her in surprise. _"Dated?"_

            "Yes," She says with a sigh.

            "F-For how long...?"

            "... A year and a half, if I remember correctly."

            I can't seem to get my feet moving.

            If I wasn't threatened by her before, I sure as hell was _now._

Of course they dated. _He_ was the football player, and _she_ was the captain cheerleader type of girl. That perfect high school sweetheart type of deal. Of course they were together, and for that long.

            "O-Oh..."

            Something in my heart seems to shatter at the admission, my backpack suddenly feeling very heavy on me. I can't tell if I want to turn around and walk all the way back to the house empty handed, or walk ahead of her and stay quiet like this conversation never even happened.

            Allura only now realizes that I'm not directly behind her, and when she stops and turns around, she sees me a few feet back, worry evident on her face. She walks back up to me, but without asking, she seems to figure out what's on my mind in just a few seconds.

            "... It was a mutual break up." She speaks up. My eyes lift to look at her, taking in the way the dim lighting peeks through the leaves and scatters in odd shapes across her cheeks. "We just... Didn't have the same feelings anymore, and I think it was better that way than trying to fight it. It was definitely hard. I cried. He cried. Some stuff got thrown. It hit Keith in the head."

            I don't want to, but I snicker anyway.

            "It was really horrible, and I feel guilty even more, because I know Lance liked me for a lot longer than before we started dating, but we weren't right for each other anymore. We agreed on that, but... Things were still hard afterwards."

            "Oh..."

            I wasn't sure if I was supposed to say something there or not.

            Allura sighs, something soft in her gaze before she rests her hand on my shoulder, motioning me to start walking.

            "I wouldn't worry about it, Pidge."

            "W-Worry about what?" I ask past the lump in my throat.

            "About his feelings for you." She says, looking me right in the eye. "They're genuine. I promise. Lance is a lot of puffed up talk and ego. Apparently he gets that from his dad, but once you get past that, you see he's just got a really big heart."

            I look down at the ground as we walk, watching little twigs snap under my feet as I take in the words.

            "... I-I don't know what he would see in me." I admit, hoping I don’t look as broken hearted and defeated as I feel.

            "What do you mean?"

            "I mean... I can definitely see what he sees in _you."_ I tell her, motioning to her whole body. "You're this perfect girl with the perfect hair and stuff. You're smart and funny. You probably know how to put on makeup too, and I just..."

            I stop again, and this time Allura stops with me, turning to watch as I wrap my arms around myself.

            "... If you think Lance's only qualifications for the perfect girl are looks, then you're thinking very lowly of him." She tells me, her hands resting on her hips.

            "I said you're smart and funny..."

            "Yes, but you're insinuating that you aren't anything but a brain." She says, poking my shoulder. "You're beautiful too. You don't have to look like a model to be beautiful. Not as to say I look like that, but you get my point, right?"

            "Not... Really?"

            Allura rolls her eyes.

            "Listen, Pidge. I love Lance, but the love I have for him isn't the same as it used to be. We're still close though, and I know what goes through his mind." Allura kneels down a little, as if she's trying to meet my eyes that keep looking at the ground. "And I know you have no idea how he was looking at you when we first broke you out of that camp."

            My head snaps up, my eyes meeting hers. The memories of waking up in Lance's arms aren't fresh, but the feelings are. The feeling of his warmth, his breath on my head. Of his arms around me, holding me protectively and waiting for me to look up and see who it was who held me so closely.

            I remember meeting his eyes for the very first time. I'd been so afraid.

            "Lance doesn't hide his feelings well at all. We're all very aware he's had a crush on you since you were resting in his bed, because he had the most tender look in his eyes when he looked at you, Pidge." Allura's hand dipped under my chin, making sure my eyes didn't stray from her. "This look of curiosity. Of a gentle affection for someone he knew nothing about. If I’m being honest, I don't think he ever looked at me the way he does you."

            "I can't imagine..."

            "Trust me. He didn't." She stands up completely, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. "And you look at him the same way."

            "I-I do not!" I flush as I try to step back from her, but Allura has a firm grasp on my shoulder with a look that simply dares me to try and run.

            "You think we don't see it, Pidge, but we do." She smirks as she forces us to walk. "And I'll have you know that I approve. He's found himself a very amazing girl to be with, and I wouldn't want anything less for him."

            "I-I uh..." I stutter, nervously pressing my palms together. God, how did they start sweating this fast?

            "I should also tell you though that, because Lance is still my best friend, if you hurt him in any way, I'll have to kill you."

            I know with every fiber of my being that she means it. There isn't a shred of doubt in my mind that she wouldn't bury me alive if something like that every happened, and yet I'm laughing despite it. I'm covering my mouth to avoid being heard, but I can't help the chuckles and giggles, the puffs of air desperate for a burst of laughter to release from my chest, but I just can't. God forbid an adult found us out here while we were by ourselves.

            "I'm serious."

            "I-I know," I giggle, looking up at her with tears beading in my eyes. "I mean, I don't have any plans to do anything like that. I... I really like him. A lot..."

            The admission is about as sudden as the feeling that overwhelms my chest. I had never put it into words in front of the others, too scared of the admission and what they would think with the truth, but realizing it just as I say it has my lips parted, trying to say more.

            I probably look like a gaping fish.

            "That's good to hear," She says with a smile. It's finally something not filled with knowing or sarcasm.

            "... If something happens," I finally begin, slowly looking up at her. "You know, and things just... Don't work out. If I hurt him in any way, I expect you to keep that promise, because I don't want to see him hurt either."

            Allura's smile gets bigger, her eyes not leaving the overgrown path we walk on. The arm around my shoulder loosens, and instead of squeezing hard to make sure I get the point, it feels more like something friends would do.

            Friends.

            Did I finally have it in me to call her a friend?

* * *

 

            It's another two hours at the most before we finally see the first signs of the fishing town we stayed in. It's the first decent sign of good luck we've gotten, and without having to speak it, I know both of our paces have quickened. We're tired, sore, drained of energy and lacking emotional encouragement, but the idea that we've finally reached our destination has us ready to find out if our target is still here and alive.

            We aren't anywhere near the docks for another twenty minutes, but we're running half way there, and when we reach it, it's with a rush of adrenaline, relief, and sorrow.

            We stop short of running onto the dilapidated wooden planks, looking at the scorch marks from Keith's fire to the missing pieces of floor, and the crates tipped over one another. A few have even crashed through the dock, and are halfway in the bay, half way out of it.

            We're silent, walking slowly, always alert, because we don't know if the PSF's are scouting this place and waiting for us or not. It seems dead, long since abandoned, but we can never be too sure.

            The crate we used to live in is turned on its side, one whole side scorched in charred marks from fire, and the contents inside thrown in every which direction. Allura and I spend only a few minutes staring at the remains of what we once called a home, more so her than me, before turning to leave. I know we both want to stay longer, and I can't imagine how she feels, but we know we have to make this quick. If we want to get far away from the town and any civilization before the sun rises, we have to move.

            The minute we come close to the broken doors that had once been poorly built, the smell hits us. The smell of something rotting, grotesquely permeating from the makeshift barn. It's so thick and awful that I cover my nose with my sweater collar, but my eyes burn with how intense it is.

            We walk in quietly, and the smell only gets worse. I stagger over wooden planks, fearing to look inside the stalls, but I have to. It's the only way to know.

            There's a part of me that knows what it is. I remember the horse in this particular stall, but all I see now is a rotting corpse.

            I turn away, more out of disgust of the sight and smell, but partly out of respect for the animal.

            "Is he gone...?" Allura asks past her hands.

            "Mhm..." I'm too afraid to open my mouth, afraid I'll somehow _taste_ the smell.

            "Goodness..."

            A quick look to Kaltenicker's stall shows nothing but the broken stall door like the stall beside it. I hesitate, but when I look inside, it's empty. No Kaltenicker. No signs that she had been here in a long time either.

            My heart drops into my stomach, a sense of guilt overcoming me at the thought that I'd have to go back empty handed. That I'd go home with nothing to give Lance, and no way to know if Kaltenicker survived or not.

            How was I supposed to tell him this?

            Allura rests her hand on my shoulder, looking into the stall with just as much sadness. She lets out a heavy sigh, or what she can manage past the smell of the dead animal in the next stall over.

            "... If we make it back before anyone is awake, we can pretend we never came here..." She says somberly, rubbing gently at my shoulder.

            "Lance deserves to know though." I mention, putting my hand over hers. "He deserves to mourn. It's the only way he'll feel bett-"

            We both jump at the loud crash behind us, coming from the area that used to be a mini feed room. It's where Lance had kept special grains and hay, because apparently one of the horses was a choking hazard, and had to have special wet food made for him. Followed past that loud crash is a loud, obnoxious moo.

            I can tell the same thought crosses our minds following the sound. We dart away from the stalls, into the small room to find a giant butt in our faces, a tail with a bow on it flicking back and forth at us, and an unperturbed Kaltenicker with her head buried in a bucket of grain.

            "Kaltenicker!" I cheer, running up to her and throwing my arms around her neck. Allura comes up right beside me and flops down against the cow’s back, hugging her with every ounce of energy she has left in her.

            Kaltenicker budges not an inch, too busy eating to care that we're leaning on her.

            "She must have broken out of her stall," Allura says, rubbing her hands down the cow's back. "She doesn't look like she's hurt either."

            "Thank god you're okay." I say against her neck, feeling tears burn the back of my eyes. "H-Holy shit you're okay..."

            It wasn't a lost cause after all. She was still here, safe and alive, and well-fed from the looks of it.

            "Have you been in here eating this whole time, Kaltenicker?" Allura asks her, and in response, the cow moos past a mouth full of chopped hay.

            Allura and I break out into laughter, knowing we shouldn't, because an adult could be anywhere near here. They could still be patrolling the place, but we can't help it. It's all too perfect.

* * *

 

            By the time we get home, it's well past sunrise. We'd given up on walking, tied some hay to a stick, and led Kaltenicker the rest of the way home, riding on her back to save our energy.

            The sun in bright and beaming as we settle Kaltenicker into a new stall in the barn next to the house, giving her fresh hay (As fresh as years old hay could get, anyway), two buckets of water to hang off of the door, and a few pieces of left over apple cores we had saved. She's as happy as any cow could be, her tail flicking around in the process of continuing her meal.

            As exhausted as we are, Allura and I are smiling as we sluggishly walk back to the house. We get inside to a warm room, so comfortably serene and pleasant, with the smell of fresh food cooking, wafting through the whole house like a treat for any child to take.

            It's almost too perfect, so it shouldn't surprise us when we walk into the kitchen, and are met with worried, angry faces.

            "Pidge! Allura!" Lance gasps, jumping from his chair at the island and straight for us. Keith is only a second after him, and Hunk, who had been cooking, is the last to jump on us.

            We're crushed under hugs, and Lance is leaning back to look at us both, looking at our pale skin and red, raw noses, touching my cheeks and feeling my forehead, looking all over our bodies for any possible visible injuries. There are none.

            "Where the fuck were you?" Keith snaps at us, grabbing Allura's shoulders and shaking her. "We've been worried sick about you!"

            "Why didn't you tell us you were leaving?" Hunk asks, looking between Allura and I, and then back to Allura.

            "Fuck, Pidge, you're freezing..." Lance utters, bringing me close, but not so much that we're pressed together. He's still too annoyed and irritated at me for disappearing without a word. "The fuck is wrong with you...?"

            I take up his hands slowly, feeling his warm hands shivering against mine.

            "Come here," I say, pulling him along.

            "Pidge...?" He questions, brows furrowed with confused.

            "Just come on," Allura ushers him and the others, bringing them towards the back door.

            It's freezing outside, and I'm sure in a matter of days, maybe even hours, it will start snowing again. It's just _when_ it’ll happen _,_ but I'm thankful it hadn't happened last night while we were in such cold weather with Kaltenicker.

            "Uh, where are you guys going?" Keith asks us, following close behind as I push Lance towards the barn.

            It's not as warm in here as it is the house, and doesn't smell nearly as good, but it's already better with life inside it. When we get in, Kaltenicker's head is poking out of her stall, chopped hay between her jaw and dripping ooze all over the floor. It's not a pretty sight, but Lance's eyes widen like he's seen the end to this disease.

            He looks back at us, between Allura and I as if silently asking how this happened, who did it, and where she came from, but he's silent, jaw slack and sputtering to make words.

            "Holy shit..." Keith utters just as Lance darts to her stall, throwing his arms around her neck.

            "Kaltenicker! You're okay!"

            "Is that where you guys were?" Hunk asks, his hands on his hips with a big grin on his face. "You went and got her?"

            "Pidge was going to do it all by herself had I not gone with her." Allura explains, motioning towards me with a gloved hand. "It was all her idea."

            I was going to tell her that it was a joint effort. I probably wouldn't have gotten so far had it not been for her. Or maybe I would have. I’m  sure, but I can’t even argue with her before Lance all but scoops me into his arms, tossing me around almost like I'm a rag doll, but with all of the strength and security he holds me with when we're in bed together, or just holding each other close.

            "L-Lance-!"

            "You're the best! Absolutely amazing, Katie!" He beams, bringing my head against his shoulder and holding me there. Even if he hadn't, I wouldn't have moved.

            I snuggle against him comfortably, my arms wrapping around his waist and keeping him close in the cold room. My heart is soaring, especially after hearing him say my real name. I never would have thought about how it would sound had he called me that, but now all I wonder is if he'll say it again any time soon. Maybe right now?

            I hear the others snickering behind me. Allura is humming to herself as she tip toes away, and Hunk and Keith are nudging at each other with their elbows, having a grand old time at the sight, but I don't care.

            This was the happiest Lance has been since I woke up, and that's all I wanted.

* * *

 

            "Good night."

            I wave at Keith as he slowly trudges into his bedroom and shuts the door behind himself, a heavy yawn following. He's the last to go to bed, though Lance hasn't shut his door. He's still in his room, sitting on his bed and watching out the door as I meander for a few more moments. I'm prepared to collapse too, but looking in, I see Lance looking at me, a big smile on his face and his eye beaming with something mischievous.

            He waves me over, and when I come in, he motions for me to shut the door. I do, but cautiously. I have no idea what he's got going on in his head, but he's acting funny.

            "What...?" I ask, turning away from him slightly.

            "Come here," He tells me, but his voice is quiet. Things do tend to carry in this house. I did happen to hear someone walking around last night and going to the bathroom, and man did they have to pee.

            I walk over slowly, and just as I get to the bed, Lance stands. He towers over me, and I have to look up, but he bends down and presses a slow, soft kiss to my lips.

            "What was that for?" I ask, chasing after his lips. I think he's purposefully doing it this time. I feel the excitement in his fingertips when he touches me, and I feel sparks run down my back when I press close to him.

            "I dunno..." He says, tucking my uneven bangs behind my ear. "Just cause..."

            "I don't think that's it." I deduce. Lance chuckles, easily knowing that he's been caught. He's not the most transparent person on the planet.

            "I just... I don't know if I can ever thank you for what you did for me today." He explains, wrapping his hands around my waist. "You're just... So incredible."

            "I mean... I wasn't alone. Allura was there too."

            "She said you were going to go alone." He says, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe you'd do that for me."

            "I just hated seeing how upset you were." I tell him as I lean my head against his chest. "I would do anything to make you smile."

            "Good god..." He sighs, leaning his forehead into mine. "Do you know what you do to me, Pidge?"

            "Yeah...?" I wrap my arms around his neck. "I can tell."

            Lance snickers, rocking ever so slightly. It kind of feels like we're dancing again.

            "Ah, I just can't control myself around you. Take that for how you want it."

            "Trust me, I do."

            We're definitely dancing now. Our bodies are pressed together, his arms wrapped around my waist and his hands resting on the small of my back while my own are wrapped around his neck, my fingers playing with the strands of hair on the nape of his neck.

            I don't know what he's dancing to in his head, and to be honest, I don't even have a song playing in mine. I'm just rocking with him, following his lead and listening to the thrumming in my ears. My heart and my blood are racing, and I'm just now realizing that it's twenty degrees hotter in here.

            Is that him or me?

            "Hey Lance..." I mumble, opening my eyes. He hums in response, but he doesn't look at me. "We never... Finished what happened that day."

            His eyes open slowly, and I watch as the realization slowly dawns on him what I'm talking about. There's not much we've done that wouldn't have been finished, so there's only one logical conclusion.

            "Wha- Really?" He asks, his head lifting up slightly.

            "Yeah..." I nod.

            "I didn't think... I mean, that just happened so fast, and we hardly knew each other. I thought maybe you didn't want to do it again."

            "It did happen fast," I agree, licking my lips. I watch as his eyes follow the movement. "But we've had time..."

            I don't know why it is, but that seems to be all that needs to be said. There's a silent understanding between us. It's fine now.

            Yes, what we had done had been stupid and rushed. We weren't ready, and we barely knew one another, but a few weeks has gone by now. I know who he is. I know I like him, and judging by the way he presses his lips into mine, slowly and steadily, I can conclude he agrees with me.

            I stand on my toes again for better leverage. It's a slow, tender kiss, and unlike the first time where it was laced with rushed anticipation and the fear of being caught, this isn't like that. He's calm and relaxed. I can tell by the feeling he lets off, and it helps me relax into his body. To press myself against him and feel his pulse against my hands when I drag them along his neck and to his chest.

            I stop myself just short of touching lower, ready to feel things I hadn't felt before when I remember one very crucial detail.

            "Wait," I say, pushing gently against his chest. Just like before, Lance immediately stops, prepared to make sure I'm one hundred percent okay with anything that happens when I press a finger to his lips, stopping him. "W-We don't uh... Have anything to... _Protect."_

            Why did I say it like that? Like I'm preparing for war? What the hell is wrong with me?

            Lance finds it hilarious though. He laughs quietly, his cheeks darkening with the second-hand embarrassment, because what else would it be?

            "Hold on," He says, turning away from me and walking to the dresser in the corner of the room. He rummages through it for a second before pulling out a small container that looks like it was from those old gum commercials. He opens it, and inside, he pulls out a small packet.

            Yes, I'm smart. I know what condoms are, and yet the very idea that it's there in my face throws me off kilter.

            "I-Is that...?"

            "I don't know why the previous person who lived in this room had them, but uh... Here it is." He says, waving it carefully between his fingers like it's the answer. It kind of is.

            "Oh..."

            The idea settles heavy on me now.

            Holy shit. We’re going to do this, weren't we? We’re going to have sex.

            "You okay...?" He asks me, noticing the worry that's probably written all over my face.

            "Y-Yeah," I say, rubbing my arm. "It's just... I've never done this before."

            "Neither have I..." He says, dropping the condom down on the bedside table. "Which is kind of relieving to hear, to be honest."

            “You never did it with Allura?” I ask, clearly confused. I can’t imagine the two of them to have been together for that long and not once try.

“What? H-How do you know about that?” A look of panic strikes Lance, the feeling of it running up my sides all at once.

“Allura told me.” I explain, rubbing the back of my neck. “While we were on our way to get Kaltenicker. It came up.”

“O-Oh…” Lance shifts uncomfortably on his feet, looking down at the ground like he’s trying to come up with some sort of excuse for himself.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, smiling shyly. “She just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to treat you wrong.”

“Treat _me_ wrong?” He questions with a hand to his chest, as if insulted. “Oh please. I’m the one who breaks hearts here.”

            I can't help but laugh. I'm trying not to be too loud, because god _kill me_ if anyone hears us, but it is relieving to know he's a virgin too. It makes me feel like I don't have competition to work against.

            Lance's hands wrap around my waist after a moment of awkward silence, and before I can stand up on my toes again, he gently coaxes me to the bed. I fall carefully, watching as he slowly crawls over me, hovering for a second to make sure I'm okay with what he's doing before slowly laying down on top of me.

            His lips are hot and heavy against mine. It's a slow, sensual kiss. The kinds I had seen grownups watch before they realized I was watching with them and turning the TV off. His arms wrap around me, one under my head while the other leaves slow trails along my side. My hands are up in his hair again, feeling the soft strands slip through my fingers effortlessly.

            My lips part on a quiet breath, and for a moment our foreheads just press together. Enough time passes to let our hearts slow their crazy, erratic paces before he kisses me again, and this time, his tongue is slipping between my lips.

            The last time we did this, the whole moment had been ruined, so I can't recall if we did this particular thing, and I don't care. We're doing it now, and while strange at first, I manage to accommodate the intrusion, my own wrapping around his every time it pushes in.

            I moan softly against his lips, my back arching a bit and pressing up into his chest. Lance's hand runs down my body, down my hip and down my thigh to hold onto and pull up. I get the silent message, wrapping my legs around his hips like I had done once before and locking them behind his back with my ankles.

            This felt familiar. Reminiscent of our previous adventure, but it's nothing rushed. I don't feel like we'll be walked in on, or that in any second the adults will find us. It's slow, lazy, with a small grind of our hips together and tongues moving in and out of each other’s mouths.

            When we part to breathe, Lance's lips trail along my jaw. He goes right back to that place I remember being most sensitive to, and he seems to have remembered as well. His lips press slow, soft kisses beneath my ear before his lips tug on that spot. I squirm slightly under the touch, and then whimper when his sucking increases.

            My fingers dig into his pajama top when it really starts to feel good. Those little hip rolls are starting to do me in too as I realize that we have too much on.

            I fumble to get my hands between us and to start popping the buttons of his shirt open. I only get a few open before he's moving down my neck some more, his tongue leaving a hot trail along my skin to my collar bone where my shirt stops him. His hand runs down my side, down to my hip again where his fingers lightly dip into my sleep pants.

            I tilt my head back, as if silently telling him to do whatever he wants.

            His hands skim under my waist band, touching places no one other than myself had touched, and I didn't do it often. I wasn't allowed to. He doesn't dip too far in, his main focus on my collar bone before his hand disappears altogether, reaching up instead to pluck a few buttons of my sleep shirt free.

            He must see early enough that I'm not wearing a bra. He stops just short of unveiling skin that hasn’t seen the light of day in years, sitting back to look me in the eyes.

            "I-Is it alright if I can...?" He stops before he can say much more, and I watch his throat bob as he swallows.

            I nod like an idiot, reaching up to help him undo the buttons. He starts at the top while I start at the bottom, and somewhere along the way, I let him finish the rest.

            He takes his damn time letting the corners of my shirt slip past my shoulders. I feel the cold air hit my pale, sensitive skin, more and more until I know everything is out in the open. I'm too afraid to look at him, instead keeping my eyes shut or staring off to the corner of the room like there's something more important there to stare at.

            "C-Can I...?" He asks again, and I swear, any other time it would have been the most gentleman thing to do, but right now I don't trust myself to talk let alone create some logical form of speech.

            "A-Anything you want..." I flush at the words that leave my mouth, barely peeking up to see what he looks like, or if I can gauge his reaction by my words. He looks slightly taken aback, but he's just about as red as I'm assuming I am, the dusting of red going all the way down his neck too.

            I finally have his stare, and when I do, I can't look away. It's so embarrassing, but I can't look away from those blue eyes, even when his hand falls to my chest. He looks down to check on what he's doing before it slides down over a nipple, his whole hand gently cupping my breast and rolling it between deft fingers.

            I had never had the chance to do anything to myself before. I was too young when I went to the camps to know of any of it, and, when I had matured, they never let us do anything to ourselves. We were never allowed, told that our bodies were disgusting, and that we were a waste of space. I knew of the cameras that always watched us, even as we slept, so even then, no one could attempt anything.

            So it's all new. All new and appreciated, because I don't feel like I'm disgusting. Lance doesn't treat me like I am. His hand is soft against my skin, gentle as he rolls a nipple between his fingers, pausing every couple of minutes to check on my well-being. He must know what hell I've been through, since I _was_ in one of the camps, so he must figure that it's better to be safe than sorry.

            I want to tell him that I appreciate it. I want to tell him that it means the world to me that he's treating me so gently, like I'm glass ready to break, but it's broken off by whimpers leaving my lips. Quiet ones that I cover up, because I'm so afraid that someone is going to hear us.

            That bravado from a few weeks ago is gone, replaced with worry that someone will catch us in all of our naked glory. He makes it so hard, pushing my sleeves aside to run his hands all along my chest. He's leaning to the side of me now, giving himself more room to work and touch and feel everything that's exposed. Some scars here and there, some bruises, and my chest. He seems to like that the most.

            "D-Don't hide your voice." He whispers, his voice strained. He leans in a little bit, and that's when I feel his erection pressing into my thigh.

            "Why...?" I ask, captivated by the way he's flushed, slightly breathless, with a light sheen of sweat along his fringe.

            "Cause I... I like hearing you make those sounds." He admits, shyly looking away to use a little more pressure around a nipple. I close my eyes and drop my head back into a pillow, sighing at the sensation. Why did something like that feel _good?_ "It's... Really hot."

            I can't help but laugh breathlessly, humored by the idea. It sounds ridiculous, but he likes it, so who am I to deny him? Actually, I kind of have to. No one can hear us.

            "I-I can tell," I say, pressing my thigh harder into his lap. Lance buckles over with a hiss, and for a moment I sit up on my elbows. "Shit, did I hurt you?"

            "N-No, no, you didn't. That felt kind of good, that's all." He admits with a good hearted chuckle.

            "Oh, okay..." I sigh. "That's good. I thought I hurt you."

            "Nah," He laughs as he straightens out, rolling back on top of me in some sort of floppy, misplaced hug.

            We both smack our heads together, and without trying to wake everyone up, we both hiss into one another's shoulders. When we recover, we can't help but laugh.

            It's something straight from the belly, so hard to hold back without waking the whole house, and yet I'm cupping his cheeks and holding him against me, our foreheads pressing together as we fight the giggles. Lance's hands rest on either side of my head, like he's protecting me from everything around us, and it's perfect.

            Despite how much of a mess we are, it can't get any better than this.

            "S-Sorry," Lance says through a chortle, wiping my cheek when a stray tear of laughter rolls down it.

            "That was ridiculous." I say, running my hands through his hair.

            "It so was," He agrees.

            "Maybe we might want to try that again."

            "Definitely, because I can be way cooler than that. I swear."

            We laugh again, this time a little louder. I don't know how much travels outside of this room, but we just can't help it.

            "How about I try?" I ask, tracing lines on his shoulders, down to the buttons of his shirt. "It's not fair I'm half naked."

            "Absolutely no one is stopping you." He replies, slowly sitting up. I follow him eagerly, my hands fumbling to keep a grasp on his shirt until we're together again.

            He lifts me into his lap, where his dick presses right into that place I had been told never to touch, not even look at, because I wasn't worth it. I gasp softly, rolling into him as I frantically pull every button through the hole to get his shirt off. Lance pulls me into a kiss, groaning against my lips as he rolls up and into me. I can feel just how hard he is through his pants, and distantly I wonder if he can feel that I'm already kind of wet.

            Sort of. Or a lot.

            I push away the sides of Lance's shirt, freeing his upper body to the cold air. Goosebumps rise on his skin, but I press into him, wrapping my arms around his back and digging the heels of my palms of his shoulder blades until there's no space left between us.

            There's heat in my stomach. Pressure that I recognize from the first time we did this. It's dull, but there, and building every time Lance pushes up into me.

            "F-Fuck..." I breathe against his lips, caught between a whimper and a moan.

            "Does it feel good?" He asks, and his hands dip back into my pants, grasping my butt and pulling me forward with every roll.

            "Yes," I pant, my head tilting back. Lance takes the opportunity to suck a nipple into his mouth, his tongue rolling the bud around in small motions that had me jolt.

            My hips jerk up over and over, and there's a sudden desperation I have never felt before. Theoretically I know what it is, but physically I don’t.

            Fuck, why didn't I do this sooner?

            "Katie-…"

            Lance's breath fans against my chest, his voice raspy in response. I cover my mouth to hide a moan I knew I wouldn't be able to let out, grinding down harder and harder.

            It’s there again. I can feel it right there.

            "F-Fuck, fuck, fuck..." I pant, dropping my head down and resting it against his shoulder. My breath is harsh and ragged against his ear, just as his is in mine, but our eyes meet for just a moment, and it's a moment long enough to understand a silent plea.

            One of his hands come out from my pants, falling to my front to rub his fingers right into where his cock is pressing into. I had never touched there before, but the sheer sensation is enough to have me dizzy, rutting up into him until everything starts to go white around the edges of my vision.

            Lance catches my lips in his, muffling when I moan abruptly, thrusting erratically into his hand while I feel a rush of pleasure so powerful that's it's blindsiding me. I wouldn’t even be able to remember my name if someone asked me, and fuck if I care.

            The powerful high is gone before I can think twice about it, but I still rut into his hand until it's almost too much, my hips stuttering against him. I finally have it in me to return the kiss, pulling on his hair to make sure we stay that way and whimpering mindless nothings into his mouth. I'm hoping he understands I'm trying to say thank you, or just trying to express how grateful I am for what was the best orgasm of my life (And my only, but I digress), but it's all useless whimpers and mewls.

            Lance falls back with me in his arms, grunting as he lands back on the bed. I hover over him, panting and shaking, my arms feeling like they're about to give out at any moment. I try to catch my breath, and as I do, Lance's hands begin to wander again.

            I'm vaguely aware he's panting, but I'm too distracted in the way his hands push at my sleep pants, rolling them down my hips. Cold air hits my hot skin, leaving me dizzy and his fingers dip into the front. His fingers brush against the front of my underwear, and I'm not nearly as embarrassed as I should be when he feels the wetness in my underwear.

            "Fuck, Katie..."

            I shudder again, loving the way he says my name. It sounds so good coming from his lips.

            "Yeah, fuck is right..." I rasp, and he chuckles at that. "Wow... T-That was..."

            "Good...?"

            "Great..." I correct, brushing my bangs from my face. "Never done that before..."

            "What? Really?" Lance asks, sitting up on his elbows.

            "No. The camps don't let you."

            "I'd hate to be any guy there right now." He mutters before his arms wrap around my waist.

            Lance yanks me down onto the bed before crawling over me, his hands pinning my own down by the wrist. The side long smirk he wears is both irritating and arousing, and I can't tell if I want to smack it off or kiss him all over his dumb, pretty face.

            "You gonna do something, or just keep staring?" I ask, feeling a sudden heat travel through my body. He may have been sucking on my chest not even five minutes ago, but I'm still horribly aware that I'm completely exposed.

            "I like staring..."

            Lance lets one of my hands go to trail a finger down my chest. He starts at my collar bone before slowly moving down between my breasts, down my abdomen, over my belly button, and then to the waist band of my sleep pants.

            I inhale sharply when they dip into my pants. My knees press together, my heart racing at the thought that someone was going to touch me in a place I had never really allowed myself time to explore.

            Lance notices it, and instantly his hand pulls back.

            "You okay?"

            "Y-Yeah, I..." I take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes to read the concern in them. "Just... Not used to this."

            "If you want to stop, we can."

            "No, no way..."

            I sit up to wrap my free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down against me. It's as clumsy as earlier, our chests knocking together and kicking the wind out of me, but I'm more upset by the idea that he'd stop than not having a moment to breathe. Something tells me that if we stopped, I wouldn't be able to breathe anyway.

            Lance's hand curls around my waist while the other acts as a pillow under my head. His kisses are far gentler than before, and the way his hand sits against my bare skin is soft and soothing.

            Only a second later do I feel another wave of nervousness wash over me, but it's not my own. It's his, and I can't tell if he's doing it intentionally, silently telling me he's just as freaked out by this new experience as I am, or if it's not meant to come across that way. Either way, I'm smiling into the kiss.

            It's nice. His touch, even his power, still makes me feel safe in his arms.

            "Y-You can keep going..." I breathe against his damp lips, looking up into his eyes. "I'm fine. I promise."

            "You sure?" He asks. I laugh against his lips.

            "Are _you_ sure...?" I run my fingers through his hair. "Cause if not, we can stop."

            "Uh, that's _my_ line." He says with a cocked eyebrow and that smirk. I giggle as his lips caress mine, a small pull on my bottom lip silently telling me to open my mouth. I do, letting his tongue explore all it wants to while his hands starts moving down again.

            I focus solely on his lips. The touch, the feel, the way they press so confidently into mine, even when he's not as confident in himself. He's trying hard to come across as well trained in the art of sex, and he's doing it for my sake, when it's obvious he's about as clueless as I am.

            We both know what sex is. He's a year and a half older than me, and had his brothers and sisters to be there and tease him about it I'm sure. I know, because I have the world's knowledge at my disposal, but that doesn't mean that in practice we're any good at it.

            So I focus just on making the moment count. On curling my tongue against his, tugging on the ends of his hair, running my nails lightly against his scalp. He seems to like that in particular.

            Then his fingers are in my pants, under the band of my underwear, and brushing up against the area I never touched before.

            I sigh against his lips, my eyebrows furrowing in concentration when I feel his fingers brush along my clit. I'm still sensitive from the first orgasm, and I can feel the way the cum runs along his fingers as he edges them around my folds. My fingers scratch gently at his shoulder blades when he nudges the sensitive nub, my head tilting back and our lips separating.

            Lance breathes heavily against my neck as he places kisses there. His lips are incessant, nips and even sucking on one spot for so long it almost hurts. _Almost,_ and I whimper as his fingers dip lower, far past where I've ever touched.

            I feel his middle finger nudge at my entrance slowly, carefully. It's a press I'm unfamiliar with before it sinks in slowly. As much as I want to focus on kissing him, my mind is wandering to other places, like the way his finger slowly pushes in, all the way to the last knuckle. It's not painful, but it's not the most pleasant feeling in the world.

            Until he curls his fingers up.

            My hips stutter as I gasp, quickly covering my mouth to hide it. That was way too loud, but what he did had my toes curling. Judging by my response, it seems Lance gets the idea that it's what I like, and does it again.

            I whine, tugging at the blankets under me as he drags his finger slowly, so _painfully slowly,_ against that one spot. I vaguely hear him grunt, whispering something too quiet to hear over my pounding heart and whimpers, before he sinks down my chest to my hips.

            I lift them at the first pull against my pants, letting him slip both them and my underwear down slowly. He has to pull his finger out, but I watch as he glides my clothing down my legs and off of my feet, throwing them away somewhere to be forgotten about entirely.

            I'm completely exposed now, my whole body screaming at me to cover up. Get dressed, and don't be indecent, because that's what the adults always said.

            I wasn't allowed to do this. I wasn't-

            "Katie...?" Lance stops entirely, and at the call of my name, every muscle that had been tense relaxes in an instant. My whole body melts, everything sore. Apparently I hadn't noticed how tense I was until he stopped. "What's wrong...?"

            "N-Nothing, I..."

            "Shh," He rests a hand against my stomach, and before I can try and tell him that nothing is wrong, he lets me feel the sensations he's feeling.

            The nervousness and embarrassment, the worry and fear, along with the content and comfort. The way his heart pounds looking down at me with those beautiful eyes of his, and the way he relaxes at just one touch of my skin.

            Have I really done that much to him?

            I sigh heavily, relaxing back into the covers and melting into his touch. He waits until my breathing has evened out, and when it does, he's even slower.

            I can't tell if I like that he's this slow or not. I can never truly express how much it means to me that he's so slow and gentle, and how his biggest concerns are me and only me, but part of my mind is screaming to hurry up, _do something,_ because it's killing me that he's not doing everything _right now_. It's torture the way he drags his hands along my thighs, separating them so slowly that I almost roll my eyes. I'm not a fragile doll, but I can see how he would think that every time he so much as touches somewhere new.

            I force my eyes closed, looking away from the stern concentration in his eyes and thinking only of his hands. The way they touch and move, massaging my inner thighs before _finally_ going back to my core. His finger pushes in again, an instant drag against that inner place that has my hips canting into his hand, and then his thumb presses back into my clit.

            I'm already seeing stars.

            "Ahh..." I let a moan slip by accident, but I see him shudder when I open my eyes. He likes when I make noise, but it's hard to do without waking the whole house.

            "Fuck..." He cusses under his breath, curling his finger over and over again.

            I motion him forward, grabbing the waist band of his pants and yanking him against me, his hand trapped between us. He grunts against me as I run my fingers along his broad shoulders, up his neck, and into his soft hair to pull him close and press my lips into his ear.

            "H-Hurry Lance. Please..."

            His whole body shudders hard at my voice, a heady groan leaving him. I feel a second finger nudging against the first one, his thumb rubbing hard into my clit to keep me feeling nothing but pleasure as he pushes the other one in.

            It's a sting at first. I moan into his ear despite it, because he's got his thumb against one part of me while his fingers are curling and scissoring and doing things my mind can't keep up with.

            My hips roll into his hand, pushing his fingers farther and deeper into me. My legs part to accommodate him as he centers himself between them, pressing his third finger against me.

            I can't lie and say it doesn't hurt, because it does. I make no remarks about it though, because I don't want him to stop. There's still that bit of pleasure that has my mind reeling and begging for more. There's that spark in my body, that coil in my stomach so tightly wound that I feel like I might explode if something doesn't happen soon.

            I reach for his hand and grab it, slowing his pace down just a bit to adjust better. He listens without a word, pressing his lips into my neck and slowly trailing down.

            His arm leaves its spot behind my head as he moves down, his fingers at a stand still as his tongue leaves a trail of heat over my stomach, my naval, and _lower._

            I flush, knowing exactly where his face is. I feel his breath against my thigh before he kisses it, sucking on the sensitive skin there. My legs jerks a bit before he goes down further, and this time I really am seeing stars.

            "O-Oh my god..."

            My voice is broken and shaky when his tongue runs along my folds, around his own fingers. I didn't think something like this would ever feel good, even though I knew about sex and its perks. I just didn't see the point, but if I wasn't biting back a moan, I'd be yelling at my younger self for being so stupid and cocky.

            Lance's tongue runs over my clit before he sucks on it. He laps at it and pulls it between his lips with precision I never thought possible, and it makes my back arch off the bed. I feel a cool breeze against my skin, unaware of how sweaty I was until I did this.

            I'm biting hard into my lip now, especially when he moves his fingers again. It's not as painful as before, but the sting is still there from the stretch.

            "You okay...?" He asks me, his hot breath fanning over my pubic bone.

            "F-Fuck, how can you just... Talk like your head isn't down there?" I ask, covering my eyes with my forearm. He chuckles, something deep and a tone I hadn't personally heard from him before. I didn't know his voice could go that low.

            "Cause it's you..." He replies. It leaves me heavily questioning, because that doesn't really answer my question, but he parts my lips and licks a long strip from his fingers to my clit, and I'm done.

            I'm arching again, panting a little too loudly as he jerks his hand, fucking his fingers up into that sweet spot. My toes curl into the blankets, my head back into the mattress and gasping as I ride out my second orgasm, one better than the first.

            I think I moan a strangled version of Lance's name, but I can't even be sure what I said myself. I'm too busy thrusting into his fingers to ride out the high until I'm spent, going limp and swallowing gasps for air. My lungs feel absolutely empty, and as he slowly pulls his fingers from me, leaving me strangely empty, I'm realizing how quiet it is in the room. I can even hear the snow hitting the window past my heavy breathing.

            "Fuck, Pidge..." Lance murmurs, running his hand up my leg. The one covered in my fluid. "Are you even aware of what you do to me?"

            My brain has long since short circuited. That Green mentality is gone, and I feel dumb, blearily looking up at him and his flushed and sweaty skin, his eyes blown wide and pupils dilated so large that his eyes almost look black.

            I grunt, attempting a response, but that's the best I've got. Lance chuckles as he looks away, his brows furrowed in what looks like pain. It only now occurs to me to look down, realizing by the tent in his pajama pants that he still hasn't cum.

            It _must_ be painful. It looks like it, and I can't actually see it. I just see how bad it is by the way his pants are lifted.

            "A-Aren't you gonna do it?" I ask, attempting to sit up. I only make it to my elbows.

            "Huh...?"

            "Aren't you gonna... _You know..._ " Is he really going to make me say it? By the dumbfounded look on his face, something tells me I need to. "G-Get inside me?"

            I swallow hard, and I swear Lance does it at the same time.

            "I-I mean... That's the plan."

            "Then what's stopping you?"

            "Pidge, if I even so much as move my pants, I think I might explode." He says, hissing when he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. "Seeing you like that kinda... Did me in."

            "Oh..." I feel extra stupid now. "Sorry...?"

            "Don't be. That was amazing."

            "Oh god..."

            I groan as I roll over on my stomach, hiding my blushing face and just about everything else. I feel dizzy, a little light-headed, but I feel like I haven't had enough. I don't know how, but it's like my body knows we haven't gotten to what we need to.

            When Lance's hand falls to my butt, palming the skin and letting his fingers slide in between my thighs, the shudder is enough to give me my answer.

            "Already...?" I ask, smirking over my shoulder. Lance snickers as he stands, undoing the draw string of his pants.

            "Yeah, I think I'm good."

            Lance pulls his pants down with his underwear, slowly revealing dark, soft skin. Skin untouched by anyone, but the jagged scar across his leg is the only sign of hands ever to lay on him. The scar that goes from his lower thigh, up, up, up and-

            Oh.

            _Oh boy._

            "Holy shit that's huge." I sputter before I can fully think through the words.

            The flabbergasted look on Lance's face is almost priceless, but then he starts laughing, and all I want to do is crawl under his bed and die of sheer embarrassment.

            "I mean, t-thanks? I'm pretty average, but that's a great way to boost my self-esteem." He says behind his hand, trying so hard not to laugh and wake the house up.

            "Oh my god, Lance, shut the fuck up." I growl into the blanket, my hands blindly searching for a pillow to cover my head with. I bet I could smother myself to death quickly and save myself the embarrassment.

            "No, Pidge. That was great. I needed that laugh." He says, falling on top of me. I squeak horribly when I feel his cock press against my thighs, hot and heavy, with just a bit of something wet on the tip and dripping on my skin.

            _"Stop,"_ I whine, covering my face with my hands.

            Good god make it end.

            Lance laughs in my ear, his lips pulling on my earlobe and his hands forcing themselves under me. I put up little resistance, grumbling as he pulls me up and onto my knees. I look over my shoulder, ready to throw some well thought out insult at him when I see him reaching for the condom packet he had set aside earlier.

            My heart all at once races and skips a few beats when I see him open the little packet, pulling out the small rubber that glistens with lube. His fingers fumble with it as he rolls it on his dick, nerves getting to him when he hisses through the sensation. 

            I look away and down at the bed when he grabs my hips, aligning himself up. I shudder when the head of his cock rubs against my entrance, a wet slip against me. I feel him push slightly, and when I think he's about to do it, he pulls again. He does it again, and when I whimper, he pulls back.

            It's like he's testing the waters. Like he's trying to see if I'm going to tell him to stop before he starts, but I don't have any plans to.

            I reach back with a shaky hand, holding onto the one resting on my hip carefully. His fingers thread through mine, and once he's holding my hand, he starts to push in.

            The head pushes in slowly, carefully, but there's a stretch. I tense up and brace myself, feeling him slide slowly, inch by agonizing inch.

            "F-Fuck..." Lance curses, his nails digging into my hip and my hand as he pushes in further. He gets a little too enthusiastic, and on the next more forceful push, I gasp in pain.

            "L-Lance, wait..." I plead, feeling my eyes well up with tears.

            "Are you okay?" He asks with an unsteady voice.

            "I-I am, it just... It stings..." I say.

            "Shit, I'm sorry," He apologizes, slowly pulling out. "I didn't do it right."

            "No, no, it's okay..." I say, pulling on his hand in hopes that he wouldn't pull out all of the way. He doesn't, and only because I don't let him. "Just give me a sec. I-I need to get used to it..."

            "Are you sure...?"

            "Yeah..." Not really, but that's all I knew that would help. That, and maybe some distractions. "C-Can you... Can you touch me?"

            I look over my shoulder when I ask this, seeing the look of worry written all over his face. His blue eyes are pouring with guilt, and if he himself wasn't so distracted, his power would have been seeping through his fingers into my hand.

            "Yeah..." He says, running his free hand over my back.

            Lance leans down, placing a kiss between my shoulder blades, up my neck, and then around my jaw to kiss my lips. I mewl against him, reaching back to cradle his head close.

            He does exactly what I asked, staying as still as possible, barely breathing (Part of me wonders if that's because he's afraid he'll come too soon). His hand squeezes my hip, a small gesture that does well to quell any worries I have.

            I smile into his lips, running my nails along his jaw as we separate. I look at him for a moment before nodding, reaching back to touch his hand again.

            "You sure...?"

            "Yeah, I think I'm good..."

            At least I think. I don't say that out loud.

            Lance sighs as he leans back, and I give his hand an assuring squeeze. I feel him pull back, and for a moment that stretch all but disappears until he pushes back in. His cock drags over that spot from before, and while I can't say I didn't feel the sting, I can’t say it doesn’t feel good.

            I sigh as I lean down, pressing my head into the mattress as he slowly thrusts behind me. He's so attentive to my needs, and if I wasn't so lost in pleasure, I'd probably be really flattered.

            I feel the pleasure he feels ebbing into my hips and my hand. He's grunting softly behind me with each thrust, and each time he does, I swear I feel it through him. I feel what it feels like for him, and the doubled sensation has me shivering.

            "Oh fuck..." I breathe, turning my head to look outside the window. The flecks of snow that fall from the sky leave shadows all over the room, and when I look over my shoulder, I see them dance across his heated and sweaty skin.

            "You okay...?" He asks, stopping momentarily. I grunt, frowning up at him and squeezing his hand.

            "I'm not a doll, Lance. I won't break." I tell him, but even as I say that, I swear the world is going to shatter around me.

            He's _right there._ I can feel it in my body, deep in my core, and it feels so good.

            "Alright..." He says this like he's being berated by a parent, but instead of arguing or checking to be sure, he pulls back.

            I gasp in surprise when he snaps his hips into mine, far harder and faster than before. Maybe I had been wrong to rush him, because there is a burn, but it's dulled by the way he thrusts into that spot inside me, making me whimper and whine into the blankets under us.

            There's an audible slap each time we come together. I can feel something wet between our thighs dripping down my legs, and for whatever reason, the sensation has that ball of pleasure tightening.

            "F-Fuck, Lance- Ahh!" I moan, far louder than I should have. I bury my face in the blankets, hiding so I don't do it again. I can't figure out how I feel it, but it feels like Lance takes that as a challenge. Like he wants to see if he can break me and make me do it again.

            He likes it when I make noises, so this only sets that theory into stone.

            The hand I had been holding pushes between my legs, pressing into my clit relentlessly and pinching it between his index and middle finger. The sensation makes my skin crawl with pleasure, goosebumps rising on my flesh. I bite at my bottom lip to conceal my voice, but it does nothing.

            He only seems to like that.

            His hips are practically pounding into mine now. I can hear the headboard to his bed bumping into the wall, the springs of the bed squeaking so loudly that it's insane. Everything it too loud- _I'm_ too loud- And yet I find it all the more arousing.

            "K-Katie..." Lance practically purrs my name, almost like it's the best thing he's ever spoken. I mewl in response, my back arching as I force myself up onto my hands. "I-I- Ah! I think I'm gonna cum...!"

            "M-Me too...!"

            It's true. He keeps hitting that one spot, rolling my clit between his fingers, his free hand gripping my hip so tightly I'm sure he's leaving scratches and red marks, but I don't care. I'm almost there. I can feel it building up again.

            Any rhythm Lance had tried to set is gone, lost in his broken humps and slaps. His breaths come out heavier, raspier, and I swear I hear my name being said between moans of pleasure.

            My legs are shaking, and just as I think he's going to tip over the edge with me, he pulls out abruptly. I gasp, trying to press my hips back into his own and take him in, but he pushes on my hips hard enough to send me on my back.

            Lance grabs my hips and pulls on them hard, bringing me right against his lap, my legs open and on either side of him. He hikes them over his shoulders, lining himself up and pushing himself in slowly, purposefully rubbing against my inner walls to torture me.

            I moan in my throat, my back arching off the bed as he begins slamming into me again. The headboard is definitely causing a ruckus, but fuck if I care anymore.

            I'm almost there. I can definitely feel it coming right to the surface, and I feel Lance's not that far away. He's right there with me, judging from the pleasure coursing from his fingertips into my sweaty skin.

            Just a little more. _Almost-_

Lance leans down, pressing into me to wrap his arms around me. It's an awkward angle with my legs trapped against his shoulders, my arms tangling around him, but he presses into me in such a way that it has everything spinning when he pushes against me just right.

            I cry against his lips when we kiss, my hips rolling into his with abandon as I cum. The orgasm rips through my body, the edges of my vision turning white as he fucks me through it. He hands grab at me like the world is falling apart around us, and I swear it is as he's cumming too.

            I gasp when it becomes too much, dropping back on the bed, my arms falling by my head as shockwaves of pleasure course through me. My veins feel alight with fire, my heart hammering and trying to escape through my chest.

            Lance jerks against me, pushing his hips into me one, two, three more times before he stops. He lets my legs drop, and the weight of them is so insanely heavy. Were they always this heavy?

            Time slows to a stop as we breathe, taking in deep, heavy gasps for air. The room is eerily quiet, all except for our breathing, and somewhere in the back of my brilliant mind, I'm aware of how much noise me just made, and how the whole house probably heard us.

            Tomorrow morning was going to be awkward, but I can't think about that right now. Not when Lance pulls out slowly before laying down beside me. Not when his arms curl around me, almost protectively, and hold me against his chest.

            I'm light-headed and dizzy from the sex, but I appreciate every little touch of his fingers as they run across my back, pumping my body with content and comfort. Of Lance's feelings, and how genuine and strong they were.

            _For me._

* * *

 

            I feel little tugs on my hair. Nothing painful, but just the lightest of touches that brings me from my coma like sleep.

            I open my eyes, wincing at how damn bright it is in the room. The room that isn't mine, and isn't anything like the cargo crate I had come to know beforehand.

            "Good morning..." I hear a whisper behind me. A soft, gentle voice with hot air that wafts against my neck.

            I tilt my head back, looking over my shoulder to see Lance leaning over me, his cheek resting in his hand as he looks down at me. The tugs I felt were him playing with the ends of my unruly hair, twirling them through his fingers and then tucking them behind my ear.

            I have a moment of confusion, blinking at him and trying to figure out what he was doing in bed with me, and _shirtless_ for that matter before last night’s activities come flooding back to me.

            "Oh..." I mutter, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment, but my heart is fluttering in my chest, comfortably okay with him lying beside me. "Good morning..."

            "Sleep well...?" He asks, hovering over me to stare down in my eyes.

            "The best," I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "And you?"

            "Like I was dead basically." He says, making me laugh.

            "That's great," I say, our noses brushing. "I'd hate to think last night didn't do anything good for you."

            "Are you kidding me?" He questions with raised eyebrows. "Last night meant the world to me, Katie. That was the best thing that's happened in my life yet."

            I see the way his lips part, as if he has something more to add to that, but doesn't. Whatever it is, I let it slide for now.

            "Hmm," I hum, pulling him down by his neck. "I like it when you call me by my real name..."

            "Oh yeah...?" He asks, a rhetorical question. "Then I'll keep saying it..."

            Our lips press together as his arms wrap around me, bringing me close just as a knock sounds on the door. We don't have time to pull away before it opens, a very sleepy looking Hunk rubbing at his eyes.

            "Hey Lance? Did you see the sno- _Oh my god!"_ He cries out, covering his eyes with his hands. Lance and I scramble to grab for the blankets, covering what's showing of our bodies as he profusely apologizes. "I-I am so sorry! I'll just be downstairs!"

            Hunk misses the hallway by a long shot, running into the door frame so hard that I can feel the residing thud through the bed frame. We wince, Lance frantically looking for a shirt to put on as Hunk staggers out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

            The whole room is awkwardly quiet. My heart is pounding, and I can't tell if this is all my embarrassment, or some of Lance's too. If it is just mine, it's sucks so bad.

            "Let's go do damage control," I tell him, looking around for my pajamas. Where had he thrown them to?

            "Good idea," He agrees, hurriedly shucking on his shirt.

            I get dressed faster than I ever have in my life. I'm pretty sure the adults attacking couldn't get us to dress this fast, done with time to spare before slowly leaving the room. We walk downstairs quietly, down the hall and to the kitchen where we hear voices. We see Allura and Keith standing in the kitchen, Allura holding a cup of something steaming as the two of them ask a very disheveled Hunk what's wrong.

            "Hunk...?" I call out. The residual whine that leaves him is enough to tell me he heard me.

            "Hey man, we're really sorry." Lance apologizes, going over to set a hand on his shoulder. "You weren't supposed to see that."

            "I-It's uh... My fault..." He grumbles, lifting his head from the kitchen counter to look in our direction. He can't even meet my eyes. "I should have waited before coming in."

            "Why...?" Keith asks, completely confused. "What'd you walk in on?"

            I flush just at the thought, but before either I, Lance or Hunk can tell him, or _lie,_ Allura snickers behind her mug. Her eyebrows are raised in that sort of smug way Lance does when he's got an ace up his sleeve too.

            "What...?" Lance asks with a frown.

            "Pidge, you uh..." Allura gestures to her own neck, scratching just below her ear. "Have an argument with a vacuum cleaner?"

            "Huh...?" I question, rubbing at my neck. I don't feel anything, so I go over to the oven to look at my tousled reflection in the glass.

            That's when I see it. The big, purple splotch of color under my ear. There are smaller bruises too, littered all along my neck, and even to where my sleep shirt parts around my color bone, but the one under my ear is by far the worst one in the batch.

            I feel every ounce of life drain from me, knowing very well that the color has both left my face and come back an even brighter shade of red. I turn around with my hand covering the biggest hickey, but it's too late. They all saw it, and now Keith is covering his mouth with his own scarf to hide the smile on his lips.

            "Lance!" I bark at him, but he's just about as red as me.

            "S-Sorry, I-"

            "Wait," Keith stops us both. "That's what you walked in on?"

            "I-I didn't know what they were doing! I thought Pidge was still in bed, and I didn't know they were together or anything!"

            Allura scoffs into her mug, truly enjoying our suffering. I never pegged her to be sadistic.

            "How could you not know? They almost broke the house last night." Keith says this in such a deadpan way, like he's talking about the weather or something mundane.

            To know he had heard us is the final nail in my coffin. I drop down to hide behind the counter, tugging my shirt over my face as I groan out pitifully.

            "Last night?" Hunk gapes at him. "You two are animals!"

            I can tell without having to see it that Lance has all but dropped on the floor.

            "If someone could run me over, that would be fucking fantastic."

* * *

 

            "Why snow? Why does it have to be snow?" Keith asks, trudging through the calf-high snow mounds to the house. It's in the distance, just a little bit past the trees, and with it now in sight, it perks up our steps to move just a bit faster than before.

            "Cause life is cruel," I say, shucking my backpack higher on my shoulders.

            We'd managed to haul a lot of stuff together, and my pack easily weighes forty pounds. We were making sure we had everything from the stores before someone else raided them, or before the snow got to be so bad that we'd run out of supplies, and wouldn't be able to get anything for a while.

            This was our last trip of the day. It had to be. This storm wasn't ending any time soon, and all I could think about (I'm sure Keith was thinking it too) was sinking into warm pajamas in front of a cozy fire, sharing stories with our friends.

            We get back to the house in a reasonable time. Allura is in the kitchen, having already returned from her trip from the small outlet a mile away. Her hair is up in a messy bun, wet strands flying in all sorts of directions, bundled up in warm blue pajamas with a blanket draped over her shoulders. She already has two cups of hot chocolate all prepared, and Keith and I can't get out of our winter boots and coats fast enough.

            It takes twenty minutes for everything to be properly put away. For the canned food we found to be stored, the dozens of pairs of socks to be separated and divided amongst the five of us, and for Keith and I to get dressed and move to the living room with our cups of hot chocolate.

            Lance and Hunk have been there for a while now, both of them having a hard time trying to start a fire by themselves. Doing that with wet wood is no easy task, but it's created a small argument between the two of them about which technique will be better to use.

            Keith, without a moment of hesitation, spits between them and into the fire place. The kindling catches light quickly, and before we know it, the wood starts to light up too.

            "Show off..." Lance mutters with a side-eyed glare at the teen. Keith only shrugs, the comment ignored.

            "How did it go?" Hunk asks as he settles on the floor, his legs crossing and tucking his blanket into his lap.

            "Pretty good. We've got enough canned food for a couple of extra days. I'm just hoping this storm lets up soon. If not, I don't know how Shiro is going to get up here." Keith explains, sitting back on the couch beside Allura. I go to sit with them, but Lance snatches me around the waist, haphazardly pulling me to the recliner with him.

            His actions bring about an eye roll from the others as he chuckles. All I worry about is the cup of hot chocolate in my hands that I'm more concerned will go to waste, not that it would burn if it spills.

            "Careful, Lance," I warn as I settle back into his lap. Lance has his arms firmly tucked around my body, keeping me in place. Even though I don't want to, I wouldn't be able to move from this spot if I had to.

            He wraps his blanket around the both of us, dropping his chin down on my shoulder. His breathing evens out, as if he hadn't been able to focus properly without me around. He sighs, and it's like he releases the tension he kept on his shoulders. It washes over me gently, and what comes next is bliss. Pure, relaxed bliss.

            "... -Path. It's probably best if he waits a few days for the snow to melt."

            The others' conversation comes back to me as we relax into each other.

            "The mud will leave tracks though," Allura mumbles mindlessly into her mug that's almost empty.

            "Yeah, but..." Keith says, almost dejected by their words.

            "I know you want to see him, Keith," Hunk speaks up, resting a hand on his shoulder. "But we have to give it some time. We'll be fine, and so will he."

            "Can I ask something?" I question, my mind wandering a mile a minute as everyone's eyes fell to me. "And maybe this isn't any of my business. No, actually, it isn't any of my business at all, but I was wondering about... You know, _you_. Your stories before IAAN broke out."

            "Oh, that's not too horrible." Hunk says, his shoulders shrugging.

            "I mean, like... How do you know Shiro? Where did you come from? What did you guys do before everything went to hell?"

            "Well..." Allura begins, setting her mug in her lap. "I went to Arus middle school. I was about to be in high school when the disease spread. I was a straight A student. I had my college of choice picked out already, and wanted to be a teacher."

            Most of that sounds about right. It's what I would imagine Allura's life to be like.

            "Your family?" I ask.

            "I had my mother and father, but I... Lost them when I was very young. My uncle took me in when I lost them, but when IAAN broke out, they took me away from him. I haven't seen him since."

            Allura's strikingly blue eyes look sullen by the memories. She had a hard life, but she kept pushing through it all to keep herself going. She had all of that going for her, and then she lost it all.

            "I'm... So sorry about that." I say. This is where my social failures come back to bite me in the ass. I do genuinely feel sorry for her, but I can't express it the way I want to. Not properly at least, and I hope I don't come across as lack luster in my remorse.

            "It's alright. We've all lost a lot, and I take comfort in knowing there are others like me. I also take comfort in knowing that someday I will reunite with Coran, and maybe then we can live life as normal again."

            "It's everyone's dream." Hunk says softly.

            "What about you, Hunk?" I ask.

            "Ah, I lived with my mom and dad before they took me away. Big house, lots of food. Nothing but being taught that home is where my family is. I had my siblings too, but we all got separated into different camps. That’s where I found Lance again. He’d been taken in first when the first symptoms showed in him, so I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. You know, he's like a brother to me, family when I don't have it.

We’ve been friends for you years, and it was devastating to hear he was put into a camp. When I was taken away and we found each other, it was like I had my family back again."

            I turn to look at Lance's face as he smiles, his cheek pressing into mine.

            "Wouldn't have it any other way." He says, his arms squeezing just the slightest. It's something unspoken, but it feels like he's saying that about me too.

            "Were you the same way?" I question, placing my hand over his.

            "Just about. We lived on a farm, took care of horses and cows and stuff. I had two sisters and two brothers, but I was the baby. They were all actually old enough to escape the disease, so I was the only one affected by it. When they took me away, my brothers and sisters put up such a fight. I just... Remember seeing Marco's face bashed into the ground. They were threatening them and...

            Pointing guns at them. Telling them it was against the law to try and stop them..."

            "I'm so sorry, Lance." I say, trying hard to lean back and get a better view of his face, but he's firmly set against my back. He's not moving, and something tells me he's doing that with purpose.

            "We've all seen that happen." Keith says, not as a snarky remark though. He says it, because he understands Lance's pain. He knows what he's been through, and he sympathizes with him.

            "What about you, Keith? What's your story?" I ask, looking towards the teen, but my hand squeezes Lance to silently assure him that I haven't forgotten his pain.

            "Uh... I never knew my mom. She wasn't in the picture. My dad was a firefighter, who died in a house fire trying to save someone. I was put in an orphanage, told I wasn't worth it. One day at school, Takashi Shirogane, the captain of the police force came in for an assembly to talk about the wonders of the police force."

            There's a distant look on Keith's face. Something sullen, but happy at the same time.

            "He took a liking to me I guess. He put me into a proper school. Took me in and gave me a home. Made me feel like someone gave a damn about me for once in my life, and helped me see that I had purpose and meaning. That I was more than just a waste of space. I wouldn't be where I am without him. "

            "So that's how you met..." I mumble, meant more for myself, but he hears it anyway and nods with a smile.

            "Yeah... And then they took me away." He says, his shoulders dropping. "I met Lance and Hunk the day I got there. The very next Lance broke us out. We hadn't even really seen much of the horrors of the camp, but we weren't staying to find out."

            "Keith took us home to find Shiro, and on the way, we found this stupid school bus broken down on the side of the road." Lance begins, snickering as he looks over to Allura. "All the guards were watching her group as they tried to fix it, and I see this one doing something really weird with her hands when suddenly four of the damn guards go flying up into a tree."

            We break out into a laugh. The mental image is hilarious at best, and I can't imagine what that must have been like in person. I bet the revenge was fucking fantastic though.

            "They had no idea what her powers were, so they were all in for a surprise when she shot them up into that tree. We went out and yanked that small group away, but Allura is the only one who came with us."

            "It was the best idea I had at the time. I was the oldest in my group, and all of the kids with me were Reds or oranges. I didn't feel comfortable around them at the time." Allura rubs the back of her neck. "I did have problems accepting Keith for who he was as well. I'd had a particularly rough time with a few Reds, and I wasn't about to let another one hurt me again."

            "Ahh, it all worked out for the best." Hunk says, waving his hand at them. "It's small and broken, but we're a family now. That's all that matters."

            "Do all of your quotes come from movies, Hunk?" I ask, leaning back into Lance's chest, who chuckles lightly against me.

            "So what about you, Pidge?" Keith asks, bringing his legs up to cross on the couch. "What's your story?"

            "Oh, well..." I hesitate. "… My real name is Katie Holt. Pidge is just a nickname my brother gave me. My parents worked in a lab conducting research when IAAN broke out. Because of who they were, my brother and I were allowed to stay longer, but eventually the president didn't give a damn and forced us to leave. They separated Matt and I was I was fourteen, because he was a Gold, and... I haven't seen him since."

            "I'm sorry your brother isn't here, Pidge..." Lance mumbles in my ear, rubbing small circles on my stomach with his fingers.

            "For what it's worth," Allura begins, sitting up slightly. "I do believe there is a better end to our stories. I do believe we'll be reunited with our families someday, and I don't ever plan on ending this fight until I do."

            "Neither do I," I say with confidence, because it's true. I won't stop until I find my family. Until I have Matt at my side and go home to Arizona where my parents are.

            "We'll all be home again someday." Hunk agrees, but then shrugs. "And until then, we're all stuck with each other."

            It's more laughter that follows. More light-hearted stories that get us in a better mood as the day goes on, and it's possibly the best day of my life thus far. Sure, I had my childhood, but I don’t remember much of that, and then I blacked out as much of the camp as I could, so there isn't much to go off of.

            This right here, however, is single handedly the best day of my life. It's the first time in such a long time I feel like I'm with my family again, sitting around a fire place and drinking hot chocolate on a cold winter afternoon, the snow going crazy outside. Warm arms wrapped around me and fingertips edging happiness and understanding into my bones.

            I _am_ with my family. Just as Hunk said, it's small and broken, but we are all we have left, and truthfully, I wouldn't have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it to the end, congrats, because that's 12 hours of your life you're never going to get back.  
> Hope you liked it though. :')


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